


Tales of Vindictus ~ Berseria II - The Morrígan Wings

by Gray_Productions



Series: Vindictus - Berseria II [1]
Category: Tales of Berseria, Tales of Series
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, F/F, Gen, Post-Game Story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-17 01:35:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14177715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gray_Productions/pseuds/Gray_Productions
Summary: It is a time of chaos. Seven years have passed since the Shepherd Artorius fell to the Lord of Calamity and a new Shepherd, Eleanor Hume, took his place. The Abbey of Midgand has disbanded, leaving its failing teachings and holy Empyrean to themselves. As darkness grows in this new era, light too shall rise.But what defines that light is never simple.The Fan-Fiction of Redemption.Tales of Vindictus





	1. Wake

**Author's Note:**

> For now, my other fanfic in Berseria will be taking a small hiatus for this story that came up. 
> 
> With the aid of my fellow RPers I've talked with, conversed, and interacted with, I don't think I would've never thought of creating this piece of fan-fiction without their help!
> 
> To my friends and allies that's been through my writing all these years, I thank you.

_History is but an interpretation. As one truth is given, another is lost to the ether._

 

Connor York looked at shining moon, painted against the stars. Not a single cloud in the sky. A light breeze blew between the trees and houses. Peace was something painstakingly struck in Stonebury. Looking at the gate before him, he turned around and heading into the woods.

Seven years. Hard to believe that Shepherd Artorius Collbrande was killed by the Lord of Calamity.

A great deal of people cried learning the news. A great memorial was to be built in Loegres.

But the Abbey needed a new hero to rally about. A new savior for these dark times. Daemons are still roaming around, but the malakhim had abandoned them.

So came the Redeemer, Shepherd Eleanor Hume.

Connor wanted to believe this, but he remembered the Abbey’s order regarding her. The first Traitor, _Damnatio Memoriae_. Yet she had the complete backing of the Midgand Empire’s Prince.

Frustration vented with every step. The reformation of the Abbey under Hume’s rule wasn’t the easiest transition. Legates Shigure Rangetsu and Melchior dead and hundreds of Exorcists leaving the Abbey. Some even denounced the Church with the Ascension of the Sixth Empyrean, Maotelus.

Hardliners in the Imperial family added their reluctance. The four years since were hell and back, slowly gathering support from the people.

And yet…

Mysterious disappearances have taken across the Empire’s further towns. People or caravans disappear overnight. The sounds of dangerous monsters lurking in the deepest shadow.

With so much on her hands, Shepherd Hume ordered a diaspora. The Abbey and its people into exile.

And Connor was not happy. Not one bit.

All that pain and effort, shuffled off like a piece of parchment.

Without an Exorcist’s artes, what could man do against the darkness?

If only Artorius was still alive.

With a lantern in hand, the young man continued his patrol. The dark was drawing deeper and deeper despite the full moon. Drawing a blade, he kept himself steady. Just the sounds of the night.

No, that’s not right. The sounds were dead. Muted. Gone.

A single snap in the air and Connor hopped back. An arrow stuck in the ground here he once was. Shadows moved between the trees and branches. This was no wind that carried between them.

Under the moonlight, the shadows ducked and dived at the Exorcist, snipping at his lighter armor. Cuts drew deeper and deeper as he hacked back. These shadows relentlessly attacked, between martial artes and daggering hidden artes.

Winds slashed through his padding, drawing blood. He gulped. He couldn’t fight them like this. Running, he took a turn towards the town. But further it seemed away. The woods grew, the dark darker and darker still. Droplets became rivers and he panicked.

Connor dropped his weapons, running with no end in sight. A light pain stuck in his thigh. Another arrow. He widened his eyes, tumbling to a fall.

“ _Do you know what your sin is?_ ”

The young Exorcist stared up at an armored figure. Dark blood red orbs glowed behind the armor slits of the being’s helmet. With a single stroke, Connor choked on his own blood. His throat laid open.

“ _It is pride…_ ”

His assailant was patient. Whatever this monster was, it would stay, watching him painfully bleed out. Shadows collected in the corners of his eyes as pain and numbness took over.

Falling, he heard the last words.

“ _For the security of our pure and blue world..._ ”

 

_“Happy Ever After”, in truth, it is only when the Author stops paying attention…_

 

Eleanor gazed upon the rocky mounds of her small camp. A fire burned in her heart. She had a feeling this was coming. But another threat so soon..?

Moodiness and snappy wit became her allies. Her friends scattering to the wind as she knew they would. From Magilou, to Rokurou and Eizen, she knew they all had their lives to continue. What hurt the most was the realization of such precious days, on the run from the Abbey’s forces, under the star-lit night…

Was the most she felt alive.

Why were such terrible actions, living on the edge, brought out the most of people?

Was this cycle of pain and misery so built into the world they lived in?

She wanted to know. She needed to know. What was the truth behind all of this. The Heavenly Steppes provided an answer, but Eleanor felt dissatisfied. There must be something else beyond pettiness.

It was her job to find the truth.

But as the days continued, and months became years, pretender Lords of Calamity rose.

And she struck them down. Those too far in their despair, too distraught. Was this the only method? Could there be another way? These questions plagued her mind, constantly gnawing away while other threats emerged.

Even after Prince Percival told the nobility of the true nature of Artorius’s plan, there were few that believed that it was the “right” correct.

When the needs of the many out-weight the needs of the few… But what happens when they become the few for the many?

Checking the slow burn of the fire before her, she turned to the side. A woman approached her.

Hair as red as the flames, with orange tips. A regal appearance kept by battle dress not unlike the old Exorcist orderlies. Bright blue eyes matching the tips of fire looked back, swearing a solemn vow as her malak-bond.

“Aoife… How much longer until we reach Eumacia’s Sanctum?”

“At least two more days. There’s a local town nearby, taken by the Empyrean’s protection.”

She nodded, turning to the other person at the camp. A young woman, with a cap over her head. Strikes of blonde hair poked out and a simple hand-and-a-half sword at her side. Sleeping, sitting close enough to the fire. Even if they really didn’t need that.

“Alex, you awake?”

The blonde stirred, opening an eye. “Yes. I heard. I’ll scout before the dawn.”

Eleanor took a moment and breathed. It seemed just like those days in the past. But those days were long gone. Now, it was a race against all things precious to her. Pretender Lords of Calamity or mass amounts of malevolence. Right now, Maotelus can’t purify them all.

Perhaps that was her fault as well…

 

_This is another story. The alternate truth to what was believed to be “the end”_

 

Aball found itself another visitor. Two women walked through its empty pathways to the house furthest away. The first was a woman with long flowing black hair. Dressed in a modified Exorcist’s uniform, she brushed the light snow off her over coat. Some things inside the former Abbey just never die.

At least the fashion sense was still good.

The other, a malak of platinum hair and turquois eyes. Tied in a ponytail, she walked with hands clasped before her waist.

A large tree sat before the home, covering graves. Six of them. Two parents, a mother with her unborn child and two siblings. An entire family’s brood laid here. Or they should have, given all things that happened.

It’s nothing more than empty graves for love that burned so deep, it charred their bodies and left nothing. Ashes couldn’t even be collected.

“Just as Hume did before, we too shall pay our respects.”

They bowed before the graves, offering flowers.

“Can’t believe she paid for these and the monument all by herself.”

“Indeed.” The malak stood before the graves, studying them.

“… Lailah? I’m gonna check out the house. It’s getting late and who knows what else lives in these woods. We’ll wait until tomorrow to head back.”

“Of course, Amelia. Just let me look at these for a little while longer.”

The malak stared at the graves a bit longer, tracing her fingers against the lettering, the prayers and names.

“So this is where it started. And where it ended.”

 

_Unrecorded by history, a hidden truth. An alternate ending..._

 

Maotelus opened the chambers to the inner sanctum of the Empyrean’s Throne. Rushing passed the attending Servants of the Silver Flame, he found the Cosmic Earthpulse gateway and rushed through.

There was a change in Innominat’s power, a fluxuation coming forth into his being. Just how connected were they?

The boy Empyrean reached in, running through the endless tunnels and portals of ethereal blue. Up and down, left and right, backwards and forwards until he found the center point of the Mana Well.

Where he sealed Innominat and Velvet, isolated from the rest of the world, forevermore.

He waved his hands, giant doors rumbling open as he forced themselves through. The shimmering ball of light that enveloped the Fifth Empyrean and Velvet was gone.

Now, laid the sleeping form of his “uncle-in-law” Laphicet Crowe. But even that was slowly losing form. Reverting into a pile of dragon’s heads and scaly body. Smaller streams of silver magma shimmered in the air as they were drawn into his body. Like the spreading of a small faucet, he could feel power growing.

Eyes darted from one corner to the next. No sign of her at all. Even in this grim state, Maotelus couldn’t find it in his heart that Velvet died as well.

Hesitance pulled back his hand. He shouldn’t stay here for too long.

“Velvet… I hope you’re safe, wherever you are…” He whispered to himself.  

 

_A tale of great, tiny, precious feelings that could ignite the stars_

_A Tale of Hope and Love…_

_And so…_

Velvet Crowe…

Awaken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will you [wake](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Me7TJDHCELk)?


	2. Rebirthing

Velvet gasped for air.

The saltiness of the air under a shadowed moon highlighted the world around. Everything ached, from her head to her feet. Clothing felt like itched rags, digging into her skin. Where was this?

Her eyes scanned the local area. Lips venting stale air. By the grace of clouds moving out of the way of a full moon, the world was painted around her. Ruined marble pillars surrounding a massive hole in the ground. Light crashing sounds of the ocean against the cliff’s bottom.

“Th-this is…”

The ruins near Aball.

She crawled her way to her feet. Muscles already flaming and hurting as she barely stood. But she found her strength, taking her first steps closer. Leaning against the pillars, she found something new.

A new pillar was erected just before the ruins. Minor salt erosion chipped bits and pieces. Maybe a ruffian who thought little of the thing. Even under the darkened skies, Velvet could clearly see what this thing was.

_To the villages of Aball, who souls could not be saved._

Velvet closed her eyes, leaning against the monument. It looked like the people of Eastgand hadn’t forgotten the small village by the cliff. Her heart dropped like a weight.

Too many questions, too little answers.

The walk back through the woods back to her old home was devoid of life. Even the fallen leaves felt dead. A light breeze shook the fallow branches, casting shadows all along the path. Small snow mounds littered the pathway. A chill crawled down her body.

_Wait… I’m… cold?_ Her eyes widened. But… was she still a therion? Or even a daemon?

Reactively, Velvet held her bandaged arm out. The mutated wolfen claw manifested and ripped the bandages away. Another simple thought and it disappeared underneath the ragged cloth. Hesitantly, she rolled up some of the tatters. Black and dark red veins menacingly flared, mimicking human flesh. Much like the side of Rokurou’s face, revealing his true daemonic nature.

Right, back to the path at hand. No daemons seemed to trend around. Velvet checked herself again. Her wrist-blade loosely protruded a stub. Still broken after her battle with Artorius. Kicking her leg forward, a small blade pointed out of her boot.

_It’s something._

Her nose dripped. The cold weather was getting to her, and it wasn’t as chilly as Northgand! But her short journey came the gates of her old hometown. Small black puffs floating upwards. Her eyes widened. That was the direction of her home! Against the pain, Velvet sprinted through the gate, noisily crunching against the burrow.

Just in front of her house, before her parent’s graves, stood a single person. A long, tight ponytail held her hair together. A simple straight bang cut across her fair face with eyes that looked ‘homely’.

“… C-celica?” Velvet coughed, fatigue settling in.

The woman gasped at her, rushing back to her home as the front doors burst open. Another person was inside. With long brown hair, the other person stood with twin blades at her side, flipped around. Her eyes darted around, spotting Velvet.

The other woman hid behind her as the rage Velvet felt earlier erupted again. Was she graverobber? How _dare_ she used her house as home? Did she not respect the dead?!

Velvet leapt towards them, but her knees felt softer than before. She tripped and…

darkness.

* * *

**-.-.-**

* * *

 

When she woke up again, Velvet found herself in a bed. A familiar view of her home. The pain about her joints and body felt real. At least, what she remembered.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

She turned her head, seeing the same woman before the graves. Her hair was silver with a hint of mint. Eyes like turquoise gems. A fair face, one that seemed all too familiar to her. But there was one thing for sure. She was not a human.

A malak.

“W-who are..?” Velvet coughed again as the woman bent down, hand over her forehead.

“Mhmmm, a bit warm. Or, it’s just me. Hang on, let me get… Amelia!”

Moments later, another woman stepped into the room. The other person that burst through her front doors. Warm pupils looked back as she smiled.

“I didn’t expect to find someone, looking among the dead.” The woman known as Amelia said, “You’re Velvet Crowe, aren’t you?”

“H-how would you know my name?”

“Oh, where are my manners?” She cleared her throat. “I am Amelia Le’Blanc, former Legate of Shepherd Hume’s Exorcist corps. Now, just wandering do-gooder.”

Velvet’s brow lowered. Her mind spun like a top at her words. _Shepherd_ Hume? The crybaby Exorcist? Eleanor became a _Shepherd_ to the people? If this was a dream, it was a hilariously bad one starting off.

“Former?”

“Hume called a diaspora order. The entire organization splintered and… went our separate ways.”

Her frown deepened. “That doesn’t sound like Eleanor at all.”

“There’re many questions you wanna ask, but let’s start slow. Can you do something minor things? Lailah, ball please.” The other tossed over a small ball.

Amelia walked over to Velvet’s bedside, opening her fingers up and closing them around the ball. _Damn it, I can barely move…_

“Try squeezing the ball.”

The daemon snarled and curled her fingers up. It wasn’t a particularly hard ball, made of some soft leather but it felt like pouring lava into her veins as she crunched up.

“Ok, let go.”

Velvet breathed, and the ball fell from her hand.

“I’m surprised you managed to walk, much less scream.”

Velvet felt her daemon arm flare up. Was it sarcasm?

“Velvet Crowe, how long do you think it’s been?”

She closed her eyes. Dreams mended together, sometimes accelerating or retarding her sense of time.

“I don’t know.” She said.

“Alright.” Amelia visibly gulped, slowly walking away. “Try not to panic. I’m afraid it’s been…

Seven years

Her heart dropped. Emotions washing over as small purple wisps manifested around her shoulders and head. _Seven years?_ She knew it could be a long time, but she hoped it was… Velvet gulps felt dry and parched, scratching and burning down her throat as the malak Lailah ran into kitchen. Muscles twists and bound as Amelia leapt to action, holding her down.

“Velvet! Please, calm down!”

Lailah returned with a glass of water as she passed it to the brunette, who quickly tilted it down the therion’s throat.

Slowly, the malevolence around her disappeared. And darkness found her once again.

* * *

**-.-.-**

* * *

 

Propped up like a wooden plank, Velvet audibly growled. Whatever strength that she pulled herself from the ruins near Aball completely abandoned her. Now in the custody of some strange woman saying she was Eleanor’s _Legate_ , a small pus of disgust welled in her throat.

_Eleanor wouldn’t reuse the same names the Abbey used… right?_ The talk over the ocean, under the moon. She remembers it so lividly. For her it was like yesterday.

For her, it must’ve felt like an eternity.

“Say ‘ahh’!” Lailah holds out a spoon with some porridge. Velvet opened her mouth, taking a bite as Lailah smiled. Apparently, she was a fire-malak.

“You _do_ know I am the Lord of Calamity.” Velvet huffed, swallowing.

“And we have fought a many pretender Lords of Calamity. They aren’t all bad.” She smiled. This type of carefree and happiness was almost infectious.

“Hmph.” The fire malak continued to feed her, drumming her fingers across bowl’s rim. “Mhmm, I wonder if you can take solids. You can take liquids just fine! Don’t think you can have gases!”

_The loopy one… Does it have to be the loopy one?_ Velvet internally groaned. Puns. Bad puns. Really shitty puns that just want you to punch the person that made it.

Not that she would (or could) for that matter. Instead, the therion woman leaned back in her spot, swallowing her food as Lailah gave another spoonful.

“Tell me something…” Velvet finally spoke again. “Why does this place still look like somebody’s been living here? It’s been seven years since we came through.”

“Oh, Eleanor always came here. At least… twice a year? Yeah, about twice a year. And she keeps this place clean and nice and pretty!”

“She would even do that…” Her eyes gazed to the side. Velvet closed her eyes turning back to Lailah. “These past seven years… Eleanor becoming a Shepherd… What was she like?”

“Eleanor is… a very refined person. She keeps herself so upright, so poised. Even when several malakhim wanted to take revenge on humans.”

“They… they did?” From all the malakhim they came across, to the many that still retained free will or the ones that broke free when Innominat’s domain was suppressed, they all just wanted to get away from humans.

“W-what of the malevolence?”

“For them, they didn’t care. The Abbey had done enough damage that a few willing wanted to become dragons or drakes just to simply rampage across continent and islands.”

She stared back, lips open before quietly resigning. Who was she to speak against this? Countless malakhim, forced into servitude by the Abbey.

“It worked didn’t it?”

“Eleanor was able to settle with them yes. It took a whole two years before she started rebuilding the Abbey to follow Maotelus.”

Something stung in the back of her mind. “It wasn’t the easiest thing, was it?”

“Many former Exorcists, especially the Praetors, denounced her. They called her a ‘traitor’ and ‘usurper’, taking Artorius’s place.”

Velvet growled. It’s not like they’d know the truth. And yet…

“But you and Amelia remained.”

“Only a handful of followers and priests remained. Not many malakhim trust humans now. It only got worse when the disappearances started.”

“Dis… appearances?”

“Only a year and a half ago, we’ve been getting reports of disappearances. It started with a few traders. Maybe a farmer. Then it came entire convoys. Ships disappeared.”

“No signs of daemons?”

“If it were daemons, we would’ve dealt with it. But this is… too strategized. Too controlled to be raiders.”

“She’s right you know.”

Lailah and Velvet turned to see Amelia, just returned with fresh goods from Telliesin and local kills for food. A bit of blood splashed against the top layer of her clothes.

“People are losing their ability to see malakhim, but a good amount of that comes from Maotelus’s Lord of the Land faltering.”

“The Lord of the Land?” The raven-haired woman asked.

“Mhmm, you know how Innominat had great power? Empyreans, no matter what they say, are still malakhim. Every bit of their power comes from those that empower it.”

“That’s why the Abbey wanted to spread Innominat’s teaching.” Velvet blinked. “It’d make it a lot easier for his Suppression.”

“Exactly. Maotelus’s worship worked for awhile, Eleanor being an okay leader but… Well, she’s not Artorius.”

Angry flared. It was true. Artorius did have a charismatic aura about him, even before he was a Shepherd and the so-called “Savior of Mankind”. But even that caused problems back then. If Eleanor didn’t have that, then… what did she have?

A caring heart, a warm and courageous smile. It was the smaller things that made her… her.

Velvet’s cheeks glowed a small red color as Amelia and Lailah worried. “Are you having a fever?”

“N-no.”

“Regardless, as much as Prince Asgard supports her, if the people do not… There’s very little he can do.” Amelia looked to the side, drumming her fingers against her arm. “There’s a few nobles that still believe that Artorius’s method was the correct choice.”

“WHAT?!” Velvet nearly leaped up from her seat, getting a coughing fit as Lailah helped her back down.

Amelia winced, “It’s strange isn’t it? Even with the truth, people are all too easy to fall to something more familiar.”

The therion bit down hard. Her teeth could handle it. Even as people became mindless dolls, preaching about their logic and reason, they _still_ wanted a world like that? Just because of all the daemons that roamed?

Then what happened with what Eizen said? Given some time, humans still stop seeing malakhim? Was seven years just not enough?

“In fact, it’s kinda made it _more_ scary with Maotelus’s weakened power and resonance flipping out. Daemons manifesting in and out, frights are so common, and with the disappearances, people just lost faith in the Shepherd.”

Amelia looked at Velvet. “There’s been talk in the last half year about another Lord of Calamity appearing. And Eleanor’s gone off to solve it with another Legate.”

Her bound teeth let loose. Jaw finally slacking again. “So what? It’s up to her to figure out what she wants to do.”

“Aren’t you at all concerned? Like whatever happened with the rest of your comrades? Eleanor always held them in high regard.”

“I’m not. I…” She fell silent.

Passed her revenge, passed her feelings…

In the end, only Laphicet and herself remained.

Her mind so focused on that one pivotal moment, the defining end between her and Artorius. She left the world as it was for the rest of them to take care of it, to clean up the mess she created.

And now, she was back.

And for what?

It was almost like the time she saw her brother’s talk about what happened. She was lost again. No longer human. Just another monster.

So why did these two still help? Was it pity?

“Can’t find the answer huh?” Amelia looked to the side. “I can sympathize. If you still wanna be that Lord of Calamity, there’s nothing really stopping you now. Hell, I’m surprised you still have _some_ muscle definition, and just a lack of exercise and movement. You’re recovering faster than a normal human too. Maybe it’s because you’re a daemon?”

Velvet looked to the side. The infinite cycle of malevolence and cleansing was supposed to keep both sealed. The question still rattled in her head.

“But that’s all old news now. There’s plenty of people that’ll want you dead, running around with a name like that.”

“A brand new start!” Lailah giggled. “And nothing to _Lord_ over you!”

Velvet stared at the fire malak then back to Amelia, who casually looked away. It was hard to laugh. Harder to smile. The joke, while cringe-inducing, was welcomed. She'd have to ask her some more later. 

But their short-lived antics faded as she coughed, sinking into the blankets, spent and tired again. She wondered how much longer she’d have to stay confide like this.

Held by a strange malakhim and her master, Velvet couldn’t shake being unnerved. She didn’t have a choice now. For now, she’ll just have to trust them to help her.

Was this to be her reborn life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know "[Rebirthing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rZjpsT7VgNU)" is not a word, maybe I'm just that edgy...


	3. Shepherd of Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I’d like to thank Talesofwriter. They were the inspiration and less or more canon placement of Amelia Le’Blanc from their Emily Lutus. After RPing with them, I figured a way to integrate those fun times into this piece of fan fiction.
> 
> Thank you.

A little over a week and Velvet recovered enough to wander her own house. It was so weird, being back here again. So many times in dreams, she came through here. Whether she was married or alone, this place was always full of life.

Another life, another time.

And unlike those other times, she had somebody watching over her while Amelia got the groceries.

Lailah, the fire malak.

_It always happens to be the fire ones, doesn’t it?_ Velvet mused, leaning against the banister. Not like the spirit of fire was bad, but she was rather loopy. Unlike Magilou who’s antics for attention primarily focused around terribly woven lies or sexual innuendos, Lailah had a certain air that made her stand out.

An otherworldliness that felt out-of-touch, maybe a bit dated. But her love of puns felt at home. Almost _too_ at home.

Reflexively, she pinched herself.

“You itchy?” Lailah asked, tilting her head. “I’ve got this scratchy stick. Only for a down payment of five gald!”

Her eyes narrowed. “Lailah was it? Mind if I ask a question?”

“Oh! Go right ahead.”

“Just what were you doing in front of those graves?”

“Looking at them. I remember Shepherd Hume and Amelia talking about them. But Hume even commissioned a gravestone for you.”

“I wasn’t even dead.”

“I know! A _grave_ mistake, don’t you think?”

Velvet held back a smile. It was bad. _So damn bad_ , but that wasn’t the point right now!

“Do you feel anything about the others laying there?”

Lailah shook her head. “Not really, no. Why?”

She opened her mouth, words failing to leave. “No… It’s nothing.”

“I’m back!” Amelia called from the doors, hauling in a few other goods.

Velvet shuffled her way over, eyeing some of the stuff. Lailah giggled, taking a few things, spinning them around before setting them neatly on the table. An assortment of winter vegetables, and meats.

During her internment, Velvet found that she had a sense of taste back. Incredibly muted and slightly off, at least to her, but it was something. Maybe there was a way to shock it back into shape, but with the way these two were feeding her, it was definitely for regaining her muscles.

“Huh. You know, there’s plenty of prickleboars that la –”

“No prickleboar.” The brunette sharply cut her off.

“But there must be plenty of them roamin –”

“I said, ‘No prickleboar’!” Amelia’s voice raised.

“Alright, fine, no prickleboar then.” Velvet frowned. _The hell was her problem?_

She calmed down, pulling out a pouch behind her back and handing it to Velvet. “It’s hard finding a weapon like that, you know?”

Hesitantly, the therion unraveled the pouch. Instead was a brand-new wrist blade. One to replace the very weapon she broke during her last battle.

Handing the bag back, Velvet immediately attached it to her dominant arm. A simple flick and the blade deployed. She yelped, falling to a knee. The recoil shooting up her atrophied arm like a poison.

Lailah and Amelia stepped over as she held them back with her other arm. “I’m fine…!” She gasped, looking at the blade. It was rather simple, a double-edged weapon like the one she used before becoming a therion.

Velvet closed her eyes, breathing deeply as she set the blade retraction on slow and flicked her wrist again. This time, the blade slowly returned.

“Luck. Just luck.”

“If it was luck, you’d be high flipping already.” Amelia rolled her eyes, taking the rest of the food for storage and dinner.

* * *

**-.-.-**

* * *

 

Another day, another chance with the brunette gone, doing errant. The clothes she wore were simply too small. Even in that ever dreamscape, her body grew. Maybe it was the fact of being a daemon, or maybe… just maybe… as a human, growing older as any woman would.

Looking through the equipment box upstairs, she wiped the sweat off her brow. Figures. The training mat that she used was tossed out or removed. If it stayed here, it might’ve rotted between the constant frosting and defrosting with the changes of the seasons.

Heading back to the ladder, Lailah looked up, calling out.

“Yo-de-lay-ee-hoo! You fine coming down?”

“It’s not like I’m gonna jump.” Velvet huffed. Oh, she remembers the time just hopping onto the floor was simple. And as a daemon, she probably could.

But getting up here was already a hassle, even with quirk recovering muscles thanks to daemonic regeneration.

Once back on solid ground, she heavily sighed and leaned against the ladders support.

Lailah simply smiled back. And Velvet wondered if this malak knew that she was basically her guard until Amelia returned. Were they hiding something from her? And why did they if they were?

“Maybe you want some porridge Amelia made before she left?”

Groaning, she rubbed her eyes. Anything to get her out of her energy slump. “Alright.”

Getting herself to a chair, Lailah set off to serve her. From the corner of her eye, Velvet spotted extra weapons that Amelia brought. Beyond her bastard sword and cutlass combo, it appeared she brought a long poleaxe in the shape of a hammer. A body made of some type of red wood.

She wasn’t an expert on spear weaponry, that was Eleanor’s specialty, but this looked a little heavy for just swinging it around. Not like she’s seen Amelia without a shirt on. It just looked clunky for somebody that was just a bit smaller than she was.

That was another topic. In the past seven years, she did grow _somewhat._ But with her body atrophied and weak, it’s not like she could tell. Just gotta wait until she was better.

“Here you go!”

Thoughts fluttered away and Velvet took a bite of her food. She could feel its texture, a bit on the slimy side, but a muted warmth of berries and almonds tickled her tongue. Nodding, she looked back at Lailah, who beamed considerably.

“… May I help you?” The therion hesitantly asked.

“… Oh! Sorry, zoning out here and there.”

She wanted to bang her head into her food. How much longer until Amelia returns?

* * *

**-.-.-**

* * *

 

Stealing some of her sister’s clothes, Velvet gently unraveled the frills. They just weren’t her thing. Never was, and not willing to change that now. Her motion skills were improving, and her hands shook less when doing more focused and precise actions. Fingers pulled at the loose strings that held them together as she fitted them again.

Perfect.

She looked into the mirror. There was a gaunt in her cheeks slowly filling. Her body looked less skeleton. Muscle was growing back, and she felt healthier. Maybe it was because she was still a daemon, but how much of that was because she was a therion.

Was she still a therion?

A thought brushed her head. Once she was recovered enough to defend herself, she would march to the Empyrean’s Throne to see Laphicet. No, _Maotelus._

She remembers the time when Eleanor gave him that name. All derived from the name given to him. The panic running through her blood as she ran through the Earthpulse.

For her, it was just a few months ago. For everybody else, seven years.

Rubbing her temples, she felt another headache coming. Velvet propped herself against the wall, closing her eyes. The feeling reached her forehead then disappeared.

Maybe she was just getting hungry. This seemed to follow a pattern.

Parts of her wanted to just run out and practice on a few wild animals. From what she observed between Amelia and Lailah, there were no daemons roaming about. Which made sense; they were former Exorcists after all.

But what was Lailah’s reason for staying? Perhaps she didn’t know? But that didn’t make sense either.

Sniffing, the air lingered with the scent of baking apples. A light dash of cinnamon saturated. Velvet wiped a small bit of water from her mouth. With some sense of taste back, _anything_ would taste good.

So long as it wasn’t burned.

Walking back to the kitchen, she found Amelia and Lailah lightly talking by the table. On the table, the same baked apples she smelled rested in a simple clay plate. Cautious, Velvet took a seat to the other’s warm smiles.

“Smelled the apples huh?” The brunette chuckled. “It was Lailah’s idea. I’m a decent chef, she wanted to try some cooking too.”

Velvet snagged the apple, still weary of the two. She looked at the apple then back to Amelia. The other human blinked, wondering why she was stalling. Lailah beamed like a cat finally catching its prey.

She took a bite. Though dulled, the sweet freshness of an apple and its juices filled her mouth. An old familiar taste that took her away. Then came the spice and savory hint of cinnamon came right afterwards.

Overall, not a bad thing.

“Not bad.”

Lailah laughed, holding herself together. Amelia lightly chuckled. And soon enough, Velvet joined in.

But their peace lasted for a short time. The brunette suddenly stopped, turning her head to the front door. Her eyes widened. “Somebody’s tripped the wards.”

“This late?”

Velvet blinked. Did they sense somebody coming?

“Pack your things Velvet Crowe.” Amelia turned back. “We’re leaving now. Lailah, help her out.”

The urgency. The dread. Lailah’s usual carefree smile disappeared under a veil of direct command. The fire malak ran into her room, packing things into a bag. Velvet got up. Her bones and body still rebelling against her better instincts.

These two were prepared. Almost if they expected something like this to happen. How long did they know? What was chasing them?

Running to her room, Velvet packed whatever she could. A mixed blend of her and her sister’s clothes. She bit her inner lip. _I’m sorry Celica._

Stuffing her things in, the therion grabbed her weapon. It fit just perfectly. A single flick of her wrist and the blade protruded. This time, with no issues.

Back to the front of the house, Amelia set away the plate for the apple. Velvet could see her shiver.

“Lailah, the lights. Now.”

The fire malak snapped her fingers and the house went dim. Under the sunsetting sun, the orange and dark light painted through the windows. Lailah disappeared in a ball of red light, falling into the Legate’s body as she opened the door.

She poked her head out.

Left.

Right.

The brunette cocked her head. Whether or not she was an Exorcist or not, she had experience in sneaking around. Keeping to the shadows of the village, they skirted through leaves and branches, making minimal noise as possible. Near the gates of the village, small torches lit up.

Like a ritualistic ceremony, ten people stood at the gate, five in line.

White straps light blew in the breeze behind their grey masks. The usual white and cloth-like trim of Exorcist helms were gone, replaced with curved and metal split visors. Each helmet had a thin colored line, going from one ear to the other, atop the head. Gone were the long flowing capes and white-gold Abbey look. Replaced with light armor on their chests and ribs, shoulders and thighs, dimly glowing an inferno that beckoned hellfire.

Behind trees and bushes, Amelia and Velvet immediately stopped. Breathe. Their small march away from the center left them.

As soon as they were out of initial sight, they hurried through the gate and fled into forests.

Back to Telliesin. Back to civilization.

Shadows moved still.

More of these special Exorcists patrolled the general paths. An invisible gaze lurked among the trees and rocks. Velvet took a moment to pause, her heart threatening to beat of her chest.

“Move!” Amelia tapped her over and met.

Blade locked with blade. A dance of small sparks skirted passed her eyes. A thick blade mere inches from her face.

In the dark, the wind snapped with every swing. Velvet hopped back, feeling something burn in her arms and legs. Her eyes weren’t adjusted to fighting in this. Watching and listening as Amelia and her opponent grunted and coughed.

“ _Disintegrate!_ ” A flame roared to life.

The therion couldn’t believe it with her eyes. This girl almost floated with her weapons, kicking, slashing, and propelling herself upwards with her opponent’s helpless body, vainly defending.

“ _Falling Lightning!_ ”

It only lasted for seconds. Amelia slammed her opponent into the ground, one of her longer twin blades stuck in the Exorcist’s chest. The masked man howled, gurgling under his blood, clawing and fighting until he became still.

“Run!”

The forest lit up. An inferno grew in the background as they hurried to Telliesin.

Back to civilization. Away from the chaos. Velvet took another look as her eyes widened. _That’s where Aball…!_

Lailah manifested again, yanking her away from the sight as Velvet flailed.

“N-no, we need to..!”

“If we go back, we die!”

She continued to fight back as the flames in the forest smoldered.

“W-who are these...?”

Amelia growled, shutting her eyes.

“The Morrígan Wings…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A blade formed in ashes of the Abbey, [Shepherds of Fire](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FDNiE5CKuSw)


	4. Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shoutout to Dog of Fate Amaria, who's Dog of Fate Alice was the basis for Alexandra Breuse. Check out their fanfics on Fanfiction (dot) net with the same name and the wonderful RPing experience we've had.
> 
> Again, thank you.

Eleanor Hume took a swig of her water sack, her throat parched from heat.

Passing through the small town just before the deserts, they finally arrived. Her spear felt like it was in an oven, too hot to touch about its metal bits. It was only made worse that she carried a knapsack. But these were important things she carried. Always carried.

She looked at her arms. In the years passed, simple gloves were replaced with gauntlets. Too many close calls. A single lone ponytail on the right side of her head, hung by a single purple ribbon. The one on her right side, holding Velvet’s broken blade, reforged.

She needed better protection.

_Cast your doubt aside._

So much has changed. In some ways, she hasn’t changed. And in others, she couldn’t be the same. Eleanor breathed. It’s been a long seven years. And with newer threats coming, she needed to prepare.

Not just for her sake, but for every Shepherd or Exorcist that comes after her.

So many times she discussed with Maotelus. So many times, she tried contacting the rest of the Menagerie. Only a few times, she got replies.

The redhead shook her head. Now was not the time to discuss it.

Checking herself and slapping her cheeks together, she patiently waited for her companion to return.

“Looks clear to me.” Called a voice from the outcropping into the mountain. Her other Legate, Alexandra Breuse.

“Alex, how’s the antechamber?”

The blonde combed her hands through her wild hair. “Stony. Plenty of gems all over, and a bit on the hot side.” She paused. “You sure talking with the Earth Empyrean will help?”

“I wouldn’t have bothered trekking and finding this place if it wasn’t worth it.” She rebuked. “Let’s go in.”

The cavern in the ground was laid with marble-like stairs, eroded by the shifts of sand and time. Stalactites of strange minerals and gems hung down like tapestry. Imperial and royal weaves of the earth’s majesty, from the very precious items like flamestone, to iron and steel that made their armor and weapons. Deeper and deeper into the cave, even the air tasted of dirt and metal.

This was a sanctum to the Empyrean of Earth, Eumacia.

 _This place really is blessed with the Earth._ A feminine voice rang in her head. Her malakhim companion and first devotee to the Sixth Empyrean, Aoife. _Major Earthpulse veins lead to this location. Looks like it was an ancient tomb._

 _I’m surprised it wasn’t caved in._ Eleanor replied, her eyes shifting back and forth.

_It probably was, until you guys decided to reawake the quartet._

They reached the bottom, yet light continued to illuminate the way. Sparkling arrays of yellow painted the corridor a tainted color. Darker threads pointed further, almost blinking them along a path.

Alexandra held her blade over her shoulder, ready. Knees bent and ready to strike at the nearest sound coming at them. Eleanor let her. As her other Legate, she oversaw security details and unsavory items.

 _Funny, it reminds me of the old Abbey…_ The redhead bitterly chuckled.

The way opened to a massive sanctuary. A dome rolled about, caked with crystals. Large and small, rough and smooth, these vesicle bits gently swayed on the ceiling above. The air and light returned to normal and Eleanor took a breath in. Observing the room, a massive void deeper into the ground. As she held her ground, something rumbled. Coming from the chasm in the center.

The room was breathing.  

A low roar built up before quaking the chamber, snapping and breaking crystals as they fell to the ground and splintered. Alex and Eleanor shielded their heads, yet no gems fell near them. The rumbling intensified, unleashing a roar. Bursting from the hole in the ground, a gigantic lizard’s head poked through with stubby arms gorging the matte floors.

The dragon furiously clawed out of the hole, fully emerging. Translucent myriad colors reflected off its scaled body, swapping between all colors of the rainbow as it swished its tail about. Scarlet pupils turned to the two Exorcists, hellish slits shifting from one to the other.

Blinking, the dragon’s tongue flicked out, tasting the air. As if by some penance offering, it coiled just before its hole, closing its eyes and fell asleep. The majesty glow of the dragon died as the ground shook again.

Spikes erupted from the ground just before them. Building and building, they split into several smaller spikes until it resembled some kind of door way. The crude door ground to the side, plumps of ashen yellow and orange danced about. A man walked through.

Eleanor gasped.

“S-shigure…”

Just before her, was a figure resembling the late Legate, Shigure Rangetsu. The same body build, the same stance, even the same type of clothing. But this Shigure had the same eyes as the wingless dragon behind him. Pulsating golden veins beat through its fabric. His voice, a dominate and reflective tone.

“’Sup Eleanor?”  

“Err…” The redhead took a moment to catch her stumbling fall. “Yes. Empyrean Eumacia. I’ve come to your holy sanctum to –”

“Yes, yes I know.” He cut her off waving a dismissive hand. “The Sixth has already discussed this with me. Do you really think something like this can work?”

“I must try.” She nodded. “Humans aren't like dragons. If there’s even a sliver of a chance, to ever cut somebody from their malevolence, I will take it.”

“This is an incredibly harsh and dangerous road for you to go, Shepherd.” Eumacia gazed over to Alex. “This your bodyguard?”

“Yes. And her second Legate. Much like yourself Former Lord Shigure.” Alex bowed.

“Shigure, Eumacia. For me, it’s all the same.” He flippantly shrugged. Almost seemed like he was just himself. Returning to Eleanor he held his hand out. “Shepherd Hume, step forward.”

Eleanor took a deep breath and stepped forward. Runes appeared at her feet, circling around. Ancient arte scriptures rose and spun around her as Eumacia closed his eyes. In penance, she bend down to a single knee.

 

_By the blessings of the Empyrean of Earth, and the foundation of this stones, may your path stay resolute to what you have desired._

 

Flashing golden light erupted in the room. Just as fast as it came, it disappeared.

“Rise, Eleanor Hume. By my blessing, I proclaim you as a true Shepherd to humanity.”

Eleanor stood back up. Nothing felt too different. Maybe her legs fell asleep when she bend down.

“There is something however, we Empyreans have been keeping a secret for the past seven years.”

She blinked. “About what happened with Velvet and Innominat?”

“Right.” He scratched his head, trying to find the best words to say it.

“Uuuh yeah. The sacrifice, while incredibly noble by Hyanoa’s standards, but… Well..”

“Well, what?”

“All she really did was buy time. She’s gonna die by Innominat’s malevolence devouring.”

The redhead shifted. That’s not right. How could that be true? “But Velvet sacrificed herself to –”

“To save the Fifth Empyrean from possibly hurting or killing his connections, and to calm down the Empyrean so he couldn’t potentially damage the world or whatever.” He shrugged. “Tell me, where did she learn of that?”

Her mouth opened, hollowed breath coming out. She kept all that information to herself, even to her last moments among them. All she gave to the world was a pray that her own sins would be repaid by them.

“You saw the dragons in Hexen Isle, right? ‘Infinite Malevolence’ to keep the Empyrean awake and under our thumb. So what did Velvet do?”

“Trap him in an infinite loop… But he was weakened so –!”

“Why the hell would an Empyrean to the caliber of Innominat be weaker as the heart, to the rest of its subordinate ‘heads’?” Eumacia frowned. He rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. “A year after that happened, we told Maotelus. He took it hard, but… even he couldn’t do anything.”

“But there must be something we can do!”

The Earth Empyrean looked at Eleanor. For all the years he watched through the Earthpulse, feeling the very ground that all life steps on, each touch vibrating through the globe. How reserved and calm she was. Even the face of controversy and exploitation, she did her best.

Now, that mask she wore to the people was cracking. Even seven years later, that kind heart tried and tried and tried, living by her own ideals that found ways to betray her.

Or perhaps, it was the people and circumstance against her that betrayed her.

“Unfortunately, it’s between Innominat and Velvet. If I had to guess… She has another three years until he’s devoured her completely and he falls asleep.”

Her arms shook, pulling up to her chest. “B-but there must be something…”

“Shepherd.” Alex called over, looking to the entrance. “We’ve got guests.”

She turned, holding her spear, unsteady by the current events.

“Venators!”

Slowly, armored figures emerged from the shadows. Spears, swords, maces and morning stars swished in the air. Forming a semi-circle around the group, a leader stepped forward.

“False Shepherd, we have come to purify you of your sins. Be honored your blood shall be the one used for a new order.”

Alex and Eleanor held their weapons tightly. Aoife manifested behind the redhead, arms out, holding a single short-sword in reverse grip. All concentration focused on their enemy until Eumacia stepped forwards. His characteristic grin turned to a grimace.

“You fuckers again. I thought I kicked your asses out of here for defiling my home under the sun. Even managed to stop me from having my recreation of yozakura anmitsu.” His voice rumbled as the chamber quaked.

“I’m fucking pissed. You will leave. _Now!_ ”

Earthly waves of light exploded at his feet, but his opponents held their ground. A spike erupted through the ground at his side. Eumacia held its tip, ripping it off its ground. Dirt and marble crumbled away, revealing a massive double-edged blade.

“Very well. Entertain me then!”

“Angel Claw!”  
“Demon Fang!”  
“Azure Edge!”

Energies bounced around, colliding, and exploded. Cacophonies boomed about the structure. Absolute chaos broke loose between the Shepherd’s allies and these Venators. Eleanor gasped, fighting herself fighting five of them. Shigure handled five at once and Alex taking on another four.

Blades danced about her. None of them got close. Swatting attacks with her spear, Eleanor held her ground. This was nothing new to her now. At her back, Aoife held her small sword inwards.

“Whirling top!”  
“Sword rain!”

She backed up. They pressed again. And again, their efforts proved fruitless. Back and forth, Eleanor spun her spear and herself, evading, countering their attacks.

“Crimson Servant…!” One of them jumped. She spun and threw him behind her. “Flame beast!”

A fireball consumed his body. Aoife waved her blade about, dancing the fires before to another. The ringlet of fire spread across the floor and air. Three pulled back, two charged through. Their impatience was rewarded.

Sparks rubbed, then died. Eleanor gasped, feeling the pressure. Fight or flight. Eyes turned to Alex, disarming and flourishing through her opponents. Eumacia brutalizing his opponents with limps breaking and ripping apart.

Her mind trailed and pain spiked up her side. The Venator shoved through Aoife and struck her. Fingers uncoiled around her spear as the man followed through. Eleanor gasped, taking her other arm and punching him in the gut. Fingers crushed against the leather and light metal armor. She followed through.

Velvet’s blade glimmered, meeting softer skin. The man howled, coiling back. _It won’t kill, it won’t kill, it won’t kill._

“All Wings retreat.” The leader barked. Malak at their sides appeared and pulled them away, disappearing.

Her eyes fell to the spattered blood on the ground and back to Velvet’s reforged blade. Along the edges, crimson dripped and pooled down.

The ground shook, her head spun.

“…Anor?”

Eleanor turned, seeing Alex at her side. Aoife blinking as well.

“You ok?” The blonde asked again.

“I-I’m fine. Just gotta clean this afterwards, you know?”

Alex turned, swiping her own blade clean. Eumacia walked over, crushing his makeshift blade into pieces. The room was cleared out. While the Venators took even the dead bodies, they left behind smashed and cut body parts. Most of them from Eumacia's doing. 

“I fear for the rest of the Elemental Empyreans. I’ve already talked with the other’s, but these Morrígan Wings are persistent.” He shook his head. “Collecting artifacts, gathering weapons. Following orders of old man Melchior.”

“We know.” The blonde nodded. “Passed two years and their little shadow war, public opinion dropped.”

Eleanor slumped her head, taking a small rag of hers to clean the blade. “Does Ameouch know this?”

“He does. Unfortunately, he’s not gonna persuade them to stop. More like, he _can't_ persuade them to stop.”

“I can send you two close to the forests. That’ll cut the time for you to head back.” Eumacia stamped his foot on the ground, projecting a portal before them. It was like the many she saw in the earthpulse and final battle.

“Thank you Lord Eumacia.” Alex bowed, walking over to the portal.

As Eleanor turned, the Empyrean sighed. “Eleanor. If you ever happen to run into Rokurou… Say this to him; _hana wa sakuragi, hito wo bushi._ ”

“I-I’ll try…”

He chuckled, waving them off. Stepping into the portal, they vanished. And soon enough, so did his ethereal form. The dragon’s eyes flickered to life, lumbering back into its hole, to wait and guard its home.

* * *

**-.-.-**

* * *

 

Eleanor’s head rattled as they finally arrived at the Empyrean’s throne. Plagued by Eumacia’s words, she and Alex climbed the stairs to the top. Despite the original intentions of the throne, and it’s forced labor construction, she couldn’t help by admire how well crafted it was. Silver-white marble lining up and down its pillars and steps.  

Tears threatened to fall from her eyes. This time, she’ll ask Maotelus directly. Was what Eumacia said was true?

A thunderous wave of wind blasted the steps. Eleanor braced while her malakhim companion gazed up. Bowing down, she was accompanied by Alex.

Ethereal flames manifested before them as a familiar little boy stepped towards them. There was something on his mind, and he wanted to tell them.

“Maotelus…”  
“Eleanor…”

“Why didn’t you tell me Velvet was dying?”  
“Velvet’s gone missing!”

Eleanor stopped. Maotelus rubbed his eyes with his sleeve. “I knew that Eumacia or any of the Empyreans would’ve told you but… V-velvet’s missing.”

“W-what?”

“Wasn’t she captured in some kind of infinite malevolence ball?” Alex interjected.

“Y-yes. It’s not really ‘infinite’ but… I don’t know, I checked on Innominat and her a week ago, and she was just… gone.”

“Does that mean that somehow Innominat pushed her out?”

Maotelus stumbled, shrugging wildly. “I… I maybe? I can’t watch them dream all the time but…”

“So… Velvet’s out there. Somewhere.” She paused. “I want to look for her.”

Aoife stepped in. “Shepherd Hume, I must disagree.”

“Aoife, you know how much she meant to the group.”

“And now, that group has spread across the known lands, living by their own ideals. Take for example, the Pirate; remember the general threat they are to trade routes.”

Eleanor bit her inner lip. While she was associated with the less scrupulously bunch, it was handled by Alex. But she wanted a hand in her duties as well. If there was anybody to suffer, then it’d also be by her hands too. Eizen was her friend, forged through their adventures, but now, being on the other side of the law, it was just the way things were.

As much as she wanted to change it.

“I suggest we continue with our plan.”

“Hume,” Alex stepped up. “You know what is occurring in the frontiers.”

The redhead rubbed her temples. A new Lord of Calamity. Velvet’s given title still haunted the people. The mere mention of a new Lord of Calamity sent shivers down the ordinary people’s backs. And while she knew who she was, it wouldn’t matter.

The people won’t accept the reality.

 _At least, not yet._ Eleanor closed her eyes. “But what if she’s out there, alone?”

“She is a daemon.” Aoife scoffed. “Have you so little faith in your former leader?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“If she is the former Lord of Calamity, she will survive. We should not go following leads on her.”

She turned to her friend, hot breath at every word. “And just leave her?”

“Eleanor Hume.” The flame malak stepped forward. “I mean no insult. If the Therion has returned to this world, she has many options. One, she may try to start anew again. Tossing away her old life. Perhaps she will not _want_ to be found.”

Growling, Eleanor bowed her head. It was possible. Given all the shit that Velvet had gone through, would it be so hard to think of returning as an escape?

After all, nobody beyond the Bloodwing Butterflies, several Exorcists, and the Menagerie knew who the Lord of Calamity was.

“The other, and the more probable, she will go out and try to find what happened to her former comrades, no longer bound by the chains of her own vengeance.” Aoife chuckled. “She will go and find her old friends. And possibly, find herself here. We should continue with own quest.”

“I… Th-thank you Aoife.”

“Do not thank me, young Shepherd. It is the bonds you share with your allies. As frail as those bonds seem now, I suspect it will come around in time. But I will give you this warning Shepherd: Do not rely on their abilities to compensate your own weaknesses. There will be times where it will be you, and only you, that will be tested in the trials to come.

“After all, in darkness, ambition and dreams will be the sole light you have.”

Eleanor gulped. Sometimes she wondered how long-lived Aoife was. She almost never talked about herself. Her eyes turned to Alex, also reflecting on her words. For the small fidgets of her fingers and stance, those words cut deeper than she thought.

“Eleanor,” Maotelus said, “Is that..?”

The girls turn to the steps, seeing black hair bobbing up and down. Long nodachi blades sat behind a warrior’s back. A constant smile hid behind shadowed features. Clothes of the Far Continent, modified by Midgand cultural standards.

“Rokurou…?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Pain](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qlNvgXc_W_M) is a two-fold thing. Especially for immortal things. How many times to you think they’ve died during their life?


	5. Savior

Alexandra Breuse was a woman of many layers.

As the second named Legate chosen by Shepherd Hume, it was her job to finish things that would be considered ‘unsavory’. Much like the former Legate Exorcist Melchior Mayvin, she was to be the Shepherd’s shadow. The dagger to the will of Maotelus.

Necessary evils.

But she had no heart in it.

Formerly a primus Praetor herself, she was always assigned these jobs. All for the greater good; needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few; kill one, save hundreds; same shit, different day.

Perhaps it’s because she was brought up knowing the right and wrong. Perhaps because she really _isn’t_ an assassin.

Maybe this job wasn’t really cut out for her.

She stayed at the Shepherd’s side however. She couldn’t just go, seeing Eleanor bow and submit to the political games and tribulations of the Midgand Empire. The redhead didn’t have the same type of charisma or leadership skills like Artorius did.

And when people see weakness, they immediately latch onto it, and attack there, ignoring everything else.

The blonde blinked, seeing man and woman run up. In the years before the Abbey Reformation, Alex heard of a tall oriental man walking besides her, aiding her. This man, _Rokurou Rangetsu_ , must be him.

And that name still struck fear into the high nobles hearts.

 “Rokurou! Why are you here?” Eleanor asked, finishing their brief hug.

“Oh you know, wanted to say ‘hi’ to Phi before heading off again.”

“Where’d you disappear off to? I haven’t heard a report on you since you’ve left.”

“Well… You know that map we helped Eizen with? With all that treasure hunting and what not? Decided I’d head for greener pastures, see if there’s any other swordsman out there.”

“But did you?”

The Yaksha grinned from ear to ear. “Man, I thought I was good, but the people out there? We’re talking about completely different fighting styles, and it’s all just sooo… damn. Like damn!”

She left off a light chuckle. Same old Rokurou. He never changes, no matter what happens. “Alex, we’re heading back to Loegres. We’re going to resupply before heading off to our next Empyrean.”

“But first.” The daemon walked over and stared up at Maotelus’s true body then back to his small form.

“Hey Laphicet, how you are doing?”

“Rokurou, I told you not to call me that anymore!” The Empyrean flailed.

“Sorry, sorry! Force of habit.”

Alex stared at the three, blinking a few times. A contradiction played before her. There was still much to learn…

* * *

**-.-.-**

* * *

 

“I can’t believe you’re doing requests from the Bloodwing Butterflies.”

“They asked, I wanted to get paid. Simple as that.” Rokurou hummed, pouring himself some small sake. “You drink?”

“Not right now.”

“Alright. More for me then.”

Eleanor looked at her drink. A simple orange juice that kept her awake. Yes, they were take a small break from getting resupplied, but they had Aoife and Alex to aid. The two were her companions on her journey. Out of compassion.

In a time like this, such trust was crucial.

“‘Ello? Eleanor, you still there?”

“S-sorry, just lost in thought.” She excused herself. “By the way, what brings you here?”

“Getting my extra blades repaired. Plus, I got back from my little outlands adventures, so I wanted to see how I was doing.” But heavier brows sank down. “But there’s another thing that’s happened. And it may concern you too.”

Eleanor leaned in, brow furrowing.

“Have you heard of the Capalus family?”

“I know about them.” She blinked, a bit shocked by the question. “They’re one of the greatest families within the Empire. Even with their checked and controversial history.”

On the surface, they were a proud family of royal knights, serving the Midgand Empire’s autocracy and military might. However, assassination, trafficking, and blackmail always seem to float about them.

While nothing seemed to directly trace back to them, they always found themselves within the spotlight of such political and polarizing events.

“Well, the Empire’s been trying to fortify Vortigern, but came across some trouble. Apparently, a single daemon marched upon its keep and sacked it. Right now, that entire place is tainted with malevolence. And it growing stronger.”

“Where does this lead to the Capalus family?”

“The daemon called itself Lancelot du Capalus.”

“That’s the fomer head of the Capalus Family! I thought they were all wiped out two years ago!”

“Guess he survived. And became a daemon.”

The two grew silent. Over the last seven years, they learned about one another. The Capalus family were the ones that brought the Rangetsu clan and its subordinate families from the Far Continent here. As a familial life-debt by their ancestors, they were the hidden blade of the family.

It was them that continued the cycle of bloodshed that the Rangetsu name has today.

And their destruction was one of the last nails into the renewed Abbey’s downfall.

Eleanor sunk back in her chair. “So you’re going to meet him?”

“It’s a debt to be repaid. When I was a human, I swore to kill Shigure. But I killed him as a daemon. Two different things.”

“I… I understand.” Eleanor looked at his visible eye. There was something there that burned like a flame. The same flames she saw in Velvet’s revenge.

“Why are you bringing me?”

“Because I heard that the Shepherd has the power to bring people from daemons to humans.”

“That’s a bad lie. Who’s been spreading that?”

The two turned to the sound of another woman. Aoife and Alex returned, packs filled. The fire malak brushed her hair. “While Maotelus has full control of the Silver Flame, the arte he passed on to me is but a pale imitation. You are aware of the consequences, correct?”

“Not… really.”

Aoife sighed. “It could make the person explode. Or just not work at all.”

“Eh, if it works, then it works. If not… Eh, the Bloodwing Butterflies will clean up the mess.”

Eleanor winced. There’s that morbid humor of his. Peaking a smile, she turned back to Alex and her companion.

“We’re setting off to Vortigern.”

As they were standing back up and heading out, Eleanor overheard conversations. Many of them pointed at her.

“Is that the Shepherd?”  
“She looks worse for wear.”  
“What a strange entourage.”  
“Such a beautiful woman, taking such a burden”  
“It’s a shame really, for such a pretty girl”

These words cut deeper and deeper. She was far more than just a pretty face. Even the people seem to forget her former traitor status. Were people so easily swayed?

* * *

**-.-.-**

* * *

 

Vortigern stood as the gateway fortress that aided with the protection of various waterways for the Midgand Holy Empire. Built with the massive aid of malakhim, it was forged and nearly completed in three years.

But now, its pearly white gates fumed purple noxious gas. Tar oozed from its silver pillars. Alex dragged a scarf around her neck and covered her face. Just the presence of walking through this tainted land was enough to make her barf.

Her heart strung along. Whispers bouncing around her head.

“Alex. We need you.”

The blonde blinked, seeing Eleanor, Aoife, and Rokurou walking through the gate’s front doors.

They creaked open as the malevolence rolled out like a vat of semi-boiled fat. She braced herself as the smog passed through her. Even Eleanor shakily stood her ground.

“Is this all Lancelot’s doing?” The redhead asked herself.

“Careful. There are daemons probably guarding the fortress.” Aoife warned.

“Just like before. We’ll cut through them.”

Weapons front, the group of four marched, closing the doors as they continued.

Metal boots rumbled through the halls, dragging weapons tapping and scrapping against the stone floors. The Legate nervously held her weapon. Geometry seemed to warp around this place.

“Aoife.” She asked. “Are you going to be ok? Not gonna become a dragon here?”

“I’d worry about yourself before anything, young Legate. But I am quite well.”

Alex bit her inner lip. She could sense her anxiety? Her fear? She brushed off the comment. Right, back to herself.

Down the halls and to a door, Rokurou bashed it open. Warrior daemons turned to their intruders. Four with wolves’ heads, two with lizards heads.

“The Shepherd! Kill her! For the Lord of Calamity!”

Eyes widened among the group as they split up the fortress’s defenders. Two each. Flames blazed about as Alex honed on her attackers. They weren’t swarming around a single opponent. They were focused. Former soldiers? Or just a leader who knew basic tactics?

No matter. A blade flashed before her eyes following a mace. Alex flipped her blade around her neck and arms. Metal sparked between them. She pulled away.

“Azure Storm!”

Blue flames knocked one back. She danced back. Flipping her blade again.

“Ghost Wolf!”

Behind her opponent. That plate armor protected all of his back vitals. Maybe a..?

“Cerberus Strike!”

 _A daemon’s body armor and weapons are still the same as any other humans._ She remembered her former instructor’s words well.

The other daemon came around. Pincered, but not down. She braced, cuffing her blade against the smaller end of mace and blade. Her eyes glistened.

“Guardian Field!”

She broke their lock, turning to one as she stuck the blade into the unarmored neck. A single swipe carried her to the other.

 _Daemons… Daemons are always easier to kill._ She looked at the rest of friends. Everybody finished at the same time. _Even if they’re former humans._

Again, they continued, faster. Smaller patrols of guards were quickly cut down by herself or the samurai. Deeper still, the malevolence was growing. Her eye twitched, forcing her to rub it.

Finally, the malevolence grew still. Seeping through a singular location of the fortress keep. Massive double doors meant for the grand gateway and control of the entire building. A new addition, she believed. This was it.

Alex and Rokurou pushed on the doors.

A simple chamber of gears and ropes hung about. Like a clock, they continued to churn and go, keeping bits of the white gates open. Blades clung together towards a makeshift throne in the center. The mutated symbol of the Capalus family clung like a banner, draped behind the blades.

And upon the throne was malevolence.

Swirling wisps and fluids of black-red haze where skin or chainmail should be. Silver adored plates scarred and rippled with blood. Glowing red slits where the helmet’s visor should allow the user to see. In his hands, a single monstrous blade.

The blade granted to the Capalus family, Arondight.

“Aah, the last of the Rangetsu has arrived…” The being goaded. “And the _Shepherd_ and her pup too.”

They entered, leaving the door open. Rokurou immediately crouched down to a knee.

Eleanor knew what was going on.

“When Shigure was taken from me, I thought I had lost my valuable tool. Not even your brothers could hold a candle to your brother’s skill.”

The Yaksha bit down, keeping himself steady.

“And now the last of the Rangetsu’s have come back. If you have no purpose, then leave immediately. I have little use for a vigilante fool.” His gazed turned to Eleanor and Alex.

“But the _Shepherd…_ Yes, the _Shepherd._ Our little guiding light in the dark. The _savior._ ” He stood up. Every step bloomed malevolence at his boots. “I’ve hoped you’d arrive…

“So much hope, so much faith. When smarter ones still remember you, a _traitor_. How quick people change their minds. Attacks on the frontiers, disappearing settlers and you had _nothing_ to give them.”

Eleanor held her ground, holding her spear tighter.

“Excuses, excuses, excuses. Even your own guard deserted. And so quickly those heartfelt warmth turned their backs to the so-called ‘Savior’! This world needs not a savior, but a lord, a true Lord of Calamity!”

Lancelot unsheathed his blade, holding before all of them. Black tendrils spouted from his back, waving like a banner. He pointed his sword to Rokurou.

“Sit you hapless dog. My first feast comes at the blood of the incompetent _Shepherd_ and her pup. Then, it will be your turn. Your blood shall be the foundation of a new kingdom! My kingdom!”

Rokurou stood right up, eyes glowing red. “A Lord of Calamity? You?”

Stormhowl and Kurogane Stormquell flashed before him.

“Craving your own kingdom? You do your own thing. But sitting and dying to you would disgrace the Rangetsu name.” He barked, fire in his breath. “A curd of a daemon dares to be the Lord of Calamity? Don’t make me laugh!”

Lancelot howled, the tendrils flailing like a feral dog. Swinging his blade like a child, he charged at the four. They hopped back, seeing crumbles of stone and wood splinter about.

The expanded growth of the Sir Lancelot served him better against singular opponents. Hot winds and blades smashed against his armor. The daemon lord laughed, wilding attacking. Light and fought against dark.

Stories that would transcend and inspire young children. Details to be learned later. Or disappear in history.

Now, a blaze wrapped around the Shepherd and her malakhim companion. Blows exchanged for kicks, martial artes parried fire balls. A storm erupted between them. Short-lived as Lancelot bashed them back.

“Eleanor!”

Alex rushed in, roaring. “Lone Wolf Storm!”

The ascended daemon shrieked. Rokurou jumping right between them. Both blades shining like a star.

“ _Souden no higi, katsumoku seyo! Rangetsuryuu: Shira-_ ”

“Do you really think a half-assed move like that would work!?”

Rokurou flung across the room like a ragdoll. Eleanor and Aoife held him back. Alex from the rear. Metal scrapped metal as the light and dark danced between a pyre. Lancelot cupped his helmet, engulfed by concentrated waves of fire.

Reflectively, he dropped his blade. The Yaksha making a move again.

“ _Zek-_!”

Slapped again, Lancelot barreled through, tossing four of them. The former knight turned its maddened gaze to the samurai again, grabbing its sword once more.

“At last, the rest of your pitiful family, destroyed! Honor, fealty, piety. So easy to twist your little bouts for our family! So easy to become tools! No matter what you do now, you can never escape the truth!”

Rokurou stood again. Both blades held up, parallel to the floor. Eyes glowing blood red.  

“You are _nothing_ but a pawn!”

“ _Rangetsuryuu Ougi!_ ”

Black waves snapped across Lancelot’s blade. His blacked blade met Rokurou’s.

Time stopped. Circular runes of artes manifested across the yaksha’s blade. His eyes widened. Like a massive paintbrush, he swung both nodachis.

Mesmerizing strokes. An unending chain of strikes that cut further and further, slicing like iron against flesh.

“ _AKUMETSU!_ ”

Alex blinked. Rubbing her eyes, something changed. The daemon was nearly craved into pieces, armor plates and weapons destroyed. She turned to the side as Aoife held her hand. A familiar looking arte appearing as she lifted her arms.

_Silver flames…_

It bathed around the fallen body. Malevolence chewing through the black fog.

And died.

The fire malak ground her teeth. She shook her head.

And Rokurou stuck his blades into the neck of beast.

The air felt fresher. The evil disappearing.

Eleanor pulled herself back up, using her spear as a crutch. Those same emerald eyes she saw, crying once more. Was it for the soul that she hadn’t the power to save? The tragedy of a family? Or the man with both blades, standing before a corpse.

Blades that carried the cursed blood of a daemon. They slowly dripped off. Rokurou looked back at Eleanor. No longer were the same eyes of bloodlust or rage. Disappointment or fearlessness.

Just… what could have been.

* * *

**-.-.-**

* * *

 

Two ships pointed in opposite directions. Crew members of the Bloodwing Butterflies to ferry them to their destinations. In one boat, back to Loegres and the capital. The next, to the resting chapel of Musiphe.

Alex was already on board, watching as the Shepherd and the yaksha conversed. Aoife did the same, watching from the bow. In a moment, Eleanor hugged Rokurou tightly as he did the same. And the next, they separated, parting ways.

Once onboard, Eleanor brushed the caked tears from her face.

“Helm, take us further north.” She ordered. “We’re heading to Cuilthionn.”

“Aye ma’am!”

Sails pulled down and both ships parted ways. Aoife finally came down, meeting with Eleanor.

“Our power is not enough. The arte is getting there, but the power is lacking.”

The redhead balled her hand into a fist, leaning against the railing. Alex came over to the other side.

“I know. That is why we’re on this journey.” She looked out to the horizon, passing the silver gates.

“To stop this horrible cycle, we must get the Empyrean’s blessing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Savior](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wy_hV6yOXSA) with open hands, but they don't reach.
> 
> On a second note, I wonder if people will realize what inspiration I got for the fanfics title. That's probably a lot of spoilers to see where this fanfic's direction is heading


	6. Even... If

_Velvet smiled at the side of the cliff, watching the sunset. Laphicet right besides her, pointing at the various birds and ships that silently passed on by. The warmth of the ocean breeched against her face with the wake of the waves._

_Her hair undone to embrace the dusk, she turned to Laphicet. His face grew mellow, drumming his fingers against the grass. His lips moved. He was saying something. Did her ears mute?_

_The young boy turned to her, eyes shining a gentle hazel-yellow shade._

_“What? What did you say?” She asked._

_He continued to talk, almost if he was ignoring those words. The hazel color turned into a second sun. Shadows disappeared and then…_

Nothing.

The therion stirred in her bed, shaken by the events. Her hand reached out, flexing against the bandages that wrapped them together.

There were questions she had to ask once the other two were awake on his hastily done boat-ride.

* * *

**-.-.-**

* * *

 

Lailah blew her nose as she watched the waves break against the hull. It was always a pleasant thing, to hear the water roll over, even if she was a fire malak. Having no desire to eat, she watched Amelia munch on a piece of ship’s bisket.

And by the way the girl was crunching it, she’s glad to be a malakhim. No food, no problems!

The rest of the passengers moved about. Life was buzzing about and right on cue, Velvet Crowe finally came out.

“There you two are. Now, I’d like some questions.”

Amelia looked relieved, finally tossing her food overboard. Maybe she lost a tooth? Maybe two-ff.

_No, no. Mhmmm, need a better joke…_

“Alright, shoot.” The brunette leaned against the railing.

“Who are these Morrígan Wings?”

“The old Abbey’s personal guard. Well, more like Melchior’s hounds.” Amelia explained. “There were rumors of people disappearing during Exorcist initiation and training. People suddenly vanishing and nobody ever knowing. We thought the instructors were playing dumb, but nobody questioned it.

“Those people, they became _Venator_ -class Exorcists. Thought they were just a myth, but… You get the idea.”

Amelia turned around, facing the sea. “It’s because of them, _our_ Abbey broke. People lost faith in us. We tried contacting the Bloodwing Butterflies, but even they couldn’t do anything.”

“How in the world does this group handle the entire Abbey?”

“How did your group manage to take down the Abbey in the first place?”

Velvet cursed, leaning into the banister as well. The wind blowing in her hair. Lailah blinked. There was something almost different about her. She remembers hearing about the Lord of Calamity and all she did, but this person. This girl before her felt… different.

Her posture was different, her steps unsure.

Lailah hoped that a joke would cheer her up.

“The sea, the sea. You can see as far as the eye can see, you see?”

Amelia turned away, waving her hand off. Velvet tried containing a smirk, even if her body said otherwise.

“See? By listening to the sea, you’re feeling better.”

“Aren’t you a fire malakhim?” The brunette asked.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the water.”

This was gonna be a long boat ride…

* * *

**-.-.-**

* * *

 

Amelia rubbed her eyes free of the sea salt that collected. Port Zekrom never changes. Or maybe it has, as her therion companion shifted back and forth.

“Things change?”

“Not really. A few more stores and warehouses, but nothing too big.”

“The general ward is the same. Trader’s alley has changed a bit.”

“Has it really?”

“Yes. And that is why.” She spun around, pointing a finger at her nose. “We are going to do some clothes shopping!”

“Really? Now?” Velvet exasperatedly asked.

“ _Yesss,_ you look like a damn maid!”

She looked down her clothes. Celica’s old clothes. For all the hardships she put up with between her, Laphi, and Arthur… Her teeth overhung her bottom lip.

“Fine. But _I’m_ choosing.”

“Go right ahead.”

Velvet led the way. While the overall look of the docks remained the same, a few things were moved. More space for boats, the number of sailors roaming around. Even the smaller fishing boats just for the port-city increased. _Seven years…_ She could hardly believe it.

Of course, there was also the possibility that those two were _lying…_

Passing the crowds, the therion found herself at a clothing shop.

“Welcome!” The shopkeeper cheered.

Velvet gave a passing nod. Time to look for something that’ll fit her. Fingers dug through the various shirts and pants. But now, what would exactly _fit_ her now? Eyes wandered to a mirror as she gazed into it.

Her muscle definition was back, but there was something different. Her steps, her poses.

She was _softer_. Velvet shook her head, readapting her own scowls and body language.

And yet, it all looked weaker. Almost trying too hard.

Velvet closed her eyes. _How many dreams did I have in those seven years?_ They’ve taken the edge off. Velvet Crowe, the Lord of Calamity. _Was she still there?_ She wondered. Was that even a good thing?

Thoughts disappeared as she found some clothes. At least it was better than at Titania. Red and black. These suited her well. But she wanted something that… used to mimic her old clothes? Something to that degree?

She gazed around to the coats. There were plenty but none of them spoke to her. She could always use the old one.

“You used to wear a black ripped coat, didn’t you?”

Velvet turned around. Amelia holding another set of clothing. More earthly colors in her sets. And some hard-leather.

“Wasn’t it obvious?”

“Kinda hard when you’re wearing something like that.” The brunette hummed. “Mhmmm, are you gonna tear it up again?”

“I’m spend–”

“Do you have any gald?”

She looked down. “No…”

“Then it’s actually _my_ gald.” She chuckled. “Hey, I don’t care if you style it your own way. I’d be more comfortable if I handled the snipping and cutting though.”

Velvet rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Finally, she stopped looking. There was a simple black cloak. “How about this one?”

“Looks good to me.”

Grabbing her change of clothing, she waltzed right to the counter. “That’s about… 350 gald.”

“It’s cheaper than usual weapons.” Amelia giggled, paying up. “You gonna change?”

“I will. Just wait.” Velvet brushed off their words and headed towards one of the changing stalls. Off with her sister’s clothes and –

A knock. “Who is it?”

Parchment slipped under. She opened it.

_Velvet Crowe, the Bloodwing Butterflies are requesting your audience. However, do come at your earliest convenience._

“They found out already?” She muttered to herself. That didn’t change her circumstance. All clothed up and ready to go, she set out again.

Amelia and Lailah waited outside, smiling as Velvet came out. “What do you think?”

“Imposing and menacing. It works for you.” The legate mused. “You want me to hold on your old clothes?”

“No, I’ll carry them.”

* * *

**-.-.-**

* * *

 

The Empyrean’s Throne was still the same ziggurat colossus it was seven years ago. The additions were minimal but made to complete the entire structure. But unlike the guardian beasts that roamed the grounds, it was near empty. A scant few malakhim rested against the pillars and structures. A few passing glances looked over at the trio, but none of them wished to meet them.

Up the stairs.

 _Damn, who those these things were necessary?!_ Velvet cursed. Reaching the top, she leaned over the staircase. “This place… needs to be… smaller.”

Heavy vibrations echoed. A dragon’s roar rocked their ears as Velvet turned to the skies. An argent winged reptile landed on the throne with a loud thud. It’s eyes closed and silver flames manifested before them.

A young boy, probably ten years old, sniffling. Tears rolling off his cheeks as he held his hands out.

Velvet’s eyes softened. They walked.

They ran.

Hugging and embracing more intimately than comrades. What could’ve been a lost cousin or sibling in the other world, returned once more.

Amelia and Lailah decided to back off. Let the two alone as they slowly walked down the steps.

“V-velvet, where did you go? What happened? H-how..?!”

“One question at a time Phi, one question at a time.” Velvet loosely let go, holding him before her. “I… I really don’t know.”

Maotelus pulled on her clothes, nodding. Repeating again and again, “Y-you’re back… you’re back!”

Over tears and sniffles, Velvet finally asked, “Phi… What’s happened in the last few years?”

The young Empyrean stiffened, almost bracing for a hit coming his way. Hands clutched tighter on Velvet’s new clothing.

“Do you… really want to know?”

“I want to know what happened to the world I left behind.”

Maotelus let go, stepping back a moment. Eyes closed in thought, when he finally opened them, resolution burned within them.

“When you left… We tried to stay together. Like a memorial. Every year since you’re gone, we’d come here with yozakura anmitsu.”

“Rokurou’s idea huh?”

“Everybody thought it was a good idea.” He sniffled. The tears of his face dried, but the cracking of his voice remained. “After the first year, Magilou stopped coming.”

“Figures.”

“We said the same too.” Maotelus scratched his cheek. “But we got reports from the Bloodwing Butterflies that she was roaming around, recording things about the kingdom. A year afterwards, Eizen stopped. They’re still pirates after all and they can’t always be in the same port.

“People can still see malakhim for now. But Eizen said that his crew sees him appear and disappear. Only Benwick still sees him constantly.”

“I’ve got the idea of what those two are doing.” Velvet pondered. “What were Eleanor and Rokurou doing then?”

“Helping out with whatever they could. Eleanor was always the front-most person, and Rokurou fought from the shadows. I… I think they started dating after a while. Then two years later, they broke up.”

“Oh.” Velvet blinked in confusion. Watching the two, she half-expected that. In fact, in her dreams, there were several loops she remembered that she met the two dating.

They were… happy.

Weren’t they?

“Around that time, Eleanor decided to reform the Abbey. With Prince Percival’s approval and several other nobles, and me as the Empyrean, it seemed like the world was finally coming back together. She led the Exorcists, created a new doctrine, had two legates to help but…”

“The Morrígan Wings.”

His eyes widened. “You know them?!”

“I landed in Aball. That’s where Amelia and Lailah found me.” Velvet still looked to the side. Why there of all places? Did those two ancipate her arrival? Or was it all just coincidence?

“Looks like they were hunting after Amelia.” She finally said.

The little boy balled his hands, shaking. “It started with simple things. An increase of bandits. Then came additional attacks on the sea. Daemons started attacking in larger numbers. Villagers disappearing. They weren’t a mindless horde. They were calculated. Versed. Just enough terror running back into major towns, clogging the major ways. Just enough for them to run back to the Abbey to report it but…”

“How are they even doing this?”

“I looked through the Earthpulse. I guess they were escaping through there. But just as they come, they’ve managed to cover their tracks.”

Velvet ground her teeth. So they were at a complete disadvantage.

“Public support fell. People blamed Eleanor. Then those that remembered Eleanor as a traitor... The Bloodwings were able to slow the spread when you were around but they couldn’t stop this. The Praetor’s rallied with her because they thought she’d be like Artorius. But they fled just as the rumors got worse. Some took it a step further, denouncing that she was capitalizing on Artorius’s death.”

“That’s… not _untrue_.” Velvet shifted.

“In the end, there was only a handful of members left. And that’s when Eleanor declared the diaspora order.”

“Dia…spora order?”

“According to Eleanor, it was an old Abbey code for the members to scatter and go into hiding.”

“And what’s she doing now?”

Maotelus nodded. “W-well, there was this idea that she wanted to discover. People with large enough malevolence started appearing. Some even declared themselves ‘Lord of Calamity’. Eleanor wanted to find a way to burn away that malevolence and turn them back to human.”

“So she’s gone on a quest, huh?”

“She’s meeting the Four Elemental Empyreans. She’s already met Eumacia in the Dungeness Desert in the south. She’s on the way to find Musiphe, the Empyrean of Fire in the north.”

“I see…” Velvet slowly turned away from him, staring blankly into the great beyond from the staircase. From the corner of her eyes, Amelia and Lailah were already at the base, laying against one of the many trees planted in the courtyards.

For a monument built by the hands of enslaved malakhim, could such a view really be appreciated?

Reflexively, she pinched herself. Nothing.

Another quick reflex and her blade appeared. Something grabbed her sleeve as she looked down.

Maotelus holding on, just like that time in the earthpulse.

“Velvet. This isn’t a dream anymore.”

She sighed. “How… How can I be sure of that? What if… this is another dream? I mean, have you looked at Lailah?”

The boy blinked, “You mean, the puns?”

“She looks and acts _exactly_ like Celica.”

“I dunno. Maybe?”

“What if her memories are sealed, just like before?”

“I… I really don’t know.” He had no real memory of his ‘mother’. Even the memories through the Earthpulse made no direct distinction. “What if she really isn’t Celica?”

Frustrated, Velvet fell silent, turning away.

“What are you going to do, Velvet?”

She took a seat, legs resting on the steps lower. “I… I really don’t know. Everything that I fought… It’s all over. I can’t go back to who I was. And now, what do I have left?”

“You have me.”

“I know but… What can I even do?” She stared down at her arm, unleashing it’s claw once more. “It’s not like I can be the same baker, singer or whatever my dreams were. And now, everybody’s just gone and doing their own thing.”

Maotelus closed his eyes, taking a seat besides her. “You miss them, don’t you?”

“It’s hard to realize what you’ve got before you lose it all. Or don’t have memories of who they were in real life from your dreams.”

The young Empyrean laughed, leaning back. “I can still see them. And they’re all doing just fine. Actually, Rokurou was here a few hours ago. He came back from a mission by the Bloodwing Butterflies with Eleanor.”

Velvet looked to him, mentally piecing things together. She stood back up, sheathing her blade.

“I think it’s time to head to Loegres.”

“You want to see the capital again?”

“No, it’s about time to see a familiar face.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Even… If](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Ga02GG5ZNE) it was a dream, would those feelings disappear?


	7. We'll be Here (When You're Gone)

The seat of power, Loegres looked as beautiful as it did before. The walls that protected the inner villages shone like black obsidian. Banners of the Asgard Royal Family hung against the entrance, gently blowing in the wind.

Knights and guards watched as Velvet, Amelia, and Lailah stepped through. Unlike the Abbey’s heavily regimented rules, they followed whatever rules came before. Crowds of peasants came in packs with travelling caravans. The usual smell and stink ran across her nose as Velvet sneezed.

“Ugh. At least there’re no cats.”

Amelia laughed. “Didn’t know that. Maybe we’ll find a nice little pet shop.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Passed the gates and people were just as lively as they were before. Despite the new Abbey’s downfall, it seemed that people would go on with their lives.

Going through the major hub of the city, Amelia chuckled. She hadn’t known where these Bloodwing Butterfly people were, and it was probably for the best. How knows how many tabs they’ve got on people. The familiar people and sounds of the capital city, it was so much different than any port.

For in these walls rested the seats of power that ruled over the lands.

Following right behind Velvet, Amelia blinked. Wasn’t this just another one of those taverns? Wait, was the Bloodwing Butterflies using this place like a secret society???

As they stepped through, the brunette’s eyes widened. There was an all too familiar tall oriental man with twin nodachis.

“ROKUROU RANGETSU!”

He looked up, smiling as casual as usual. “Oh! It’s you again! The other twn-blader. Milly, right?”

“That’s not my name!” She stomped over to him and continuously poked at his chest. The samurai laughed it off with a grin.

“Alrighty Ema.”

Reduced to incoherent words and sounds, she backed off, flashing hot glares at him. There was just something that rubbed her the wrong way about him. And it had nothing to do with him dating Eleanor in the beginning. No, nothing like that.

At all.

Velvet raised an eyebrow, brushing passed the legate. “Rokurou. I see you’ve taken Shigure’s sword too.”

“Ahaha, Velvet! You look good for somebody that’s supposed to be dead.”

“I was _not_ dead.”

“Close enough.” The samurai leaned back in his seat, taking a small sip of his drink. Alcoholic by the smell. “You’re old enough now, right?”

“I’d rather not.”

Shrugging, Rokurou leaned forward. “Did the Bloodwings call you?”

“That we did.”

The three turned their heads to the steps. An older man in a simple uniform. Around his neck, a red scarf for the Bloodwings. “My name is Peter Baskerville. Tabatha is my mother. And we’ve been looking for you Ms. Velvet Crowe.”

Stepping down and coming behind the counter, he looked over at Amelia, gesturing a seat. The legate refused. Velvet took his offer.

“You came earlier than we expected.”

“When did you learn?”

“After Ms. Le’Blanc returned from Aball, we noticed her gathering many foods. We then followed her back. You arriving in Port Zekson confirmed our suspicion.”

“Why not ask Amelia herself?”

“We have dialogues with Shepherd Hume, but with the rest of the Abbey, not so much.”

“You acted as Eleanor’s shadow hand?” Velvet crossed her arms.

“Ooh perish the thought. Never. But, we do help her if she provides us some service.”

The therion remained unconvinced, turning an eye to Amelia and Rokurou again, seeing them bash heads again. Lailah turned to some of the remaining Bloodwing agents. Small passes of glad exchanged hands.

_Is she betting on them?_ Velvet’s attention went back to Peter. “You looking for jobs to be done?”

“Just one for now. Rokurou just came back from another.” He nodded at some as they hurried into the kitchen. “For today, rest up. We’ll be giving you the assignment tomorrow.”

“… Alright.”

“But before anything, would you like something to eat? My mother said that you couldn’t taste anything before, but you still need food.”

Velvet thought for a moment. “Mapo curry.”

“An excellent choice.”

As he turned to the kitchen and regular business returned, she took a seat across from Rokurou, flanked by Amelia.

“Still don’t want a drink?”

“No thank you.”

“Suit yourself.”

Watching him pour another cup, she leaned forward. The yaksha daemon grew a little more over the past seven years. Hair a bit longer but tied loosely behind his head. He even looked a bit bigger than last time.

“Seven years did a lot of good for you.” She chuckled.

“Comes with fighting any and everything.”

“Did you ever find a rival?”

Amelia raised her hand, waving it like a banner.

“Not really.”

She scowled, turning away.

“So you’re gonna keep fighting, huh?”

“Always. The world’s a helluva place, but if I’m aiming for the top. That means passages to the other continent. Or the outlining lands.” He took a sip. “Just a small taste of those blades and it makes a helluva difference. Did you know that there are swords that are shaped like hooks? And other’s, bent so they could get passed shields…”

Velvet blinked, seeing him babble on like a child. In that case, those seven years only matured the things he wanted.

“But how’d you find it? The way out of Midgand.”

“A few favors with these guys and hanging around with the Aifread Pirates of course! But they did want some treasure I found. So I did. You know, the not-pointy stuff.”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

Rokurou rubbed his chin, pouring himself some more as the mabo curry came Velvet’s way. The smell was just as rich as she remembered it. Spoon in hand, she scooped up and took a bite. It started dull, like how food always tasted after she became a therion. Then came the sauce. A small bite to it that made her want it more. Tofu and pork blending together as she dug in.

Amelia smiled, beaming with pride. “And it was I that helped her find her taste again.”

Lailah giggled. “All she really needed was a Map-o curry then!”

Velvet nearly choked on her food while Rokurou and Amelia held their collective sighs.

_There’s something they can agree._ The raven-haired woman smirked, munching through her food again.

“Velvet, you’re eating too fast.” Amelia warned. “You’re gonna get yourself a stomach ache.”

Rokurou waved his hand in front of the legate, waving her off. “Let her. You know, when you don’t have a good drink after awhile?”

“Not really, ya drunkard.”

“Ooh! Biting words.”

“Can you two can it?!” Velvet pounded her hand against the table. “I’m trying to enjoy my food. And you Rokurou, I want to talk to you later. Privately.”

The yaksha blinked. Was it something he said?

* * *

**-.-.-**

* * *

 

Lailah floated about the strange guild’s dinning area. Despite being the center for an illicit side of society, these humans got along with each other well. Barely a trace of malevolence. A happy, if sometimes sober, air between people.

Yawning, she leaned back in a seat, seeing that one of the members took a seat opposite of her.

“Ya know, I thought I remember Shepherd Hume saying that malakhim were slowly disappearing in the world.”

“You heard correctly yes.”

“And I’ve heard that a lot of you just left the Exorcists bound to them.”

“Also true.”

“And… that’s it?”

The maiden of flame tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly what I mean. You guys just left and that’s it? Hell, some of you even came back because Hume’s asked.” He rubbed his chin. “If we were talking about people like us, we would’ve attacked them back. Maybe even kill them.”

Despite her carefree demeanor, Lailah took his words seriously. “I don’t see how your wrong. Humans are very emotionally creatures.”

“So the malakhim aren’t?”

“Oh heaven’s no.” She shook her head. “Maybe it’s because a few of them are pacifists or just not wanting to be a part of human society, but they’d rather just leave each other alone.”

“But is something like that possible? I mean… How can people just let slavery like that just… go?”

“Because it’s not all of humanity. Just a few.” Another voice answered. Amelia took her seat, making the table of two, three.

“Kinda hard to think of something like that went a bunch of stuff made in three years were because of malakhim.” He pointed out.

“One person’s benefit may be another’s sacrifice. That’s why we have a Shepherd now. A person that can bridge between both races.”

“I though the Shepherd was supposed to turn daemons back into humans?”

“Yes, but not all of her duties. Or the new Exorcists.” Amelia pulled herself out a wine sack, taking a swig. “Sometimes I wonder if we’re just repeating our old mistakes.”

“And if it affects us humans, then it’ll affect the malakhim too.”

The fire dimmed, and Lailah hummed. “True. We aren’t _a-part_ of humans, but we can watch and see.”

* * *

**-.-.-**

* * *

 

Velvet closed the door behind her, locking it as she looked at Rokurou sitting on the bed. The Yaksha looked back at her, curious as to what she was thinking.

“It’s been seven years Velvet.” He leaned back, getting one leg over the other. “Lot’s changed. And lot’s the same.”

“I know. Amelia’s been telling me.” She walked to the other side of the room, propping herself up. “More daemons coming around?”

“A few here and there. Nothing out of the ordinary, but you know. Still looking for a rival.”

The therion hummed, crossing her arms. “Never knew you and Eleanor dated.”

He turned to her, the same usual smile and laugh reflected. “Yeah, that was a thing. But we ended going our separate ways. You know, remaking the Abbey and having a daemon as a boyfriend doesn’t exactly seem like a good combination, you know?”

Velvet looked unconvinced. “You two seemed to be going off last time I was awake.”

Rokurou raised an eyebrow. “Never thought you’d be so interested in another person’s life.”

“Touché.” She pushed off the wall. “But then again, I never thought I’d be back here.”

“How did you come back anyways?”

“The Bloodwings never told you?”

“Never asked.”

“Figures.” She scoffed. Then grew silent. “All I remember is a bright light and now I’m here.”

“Strange stuff.” He leaned back. “But then again, I’ve had my fair share of strange happening to me too.”

“Like what?”

“Ooh you know. Travelling all about. Learning everything from the tip of the blade.”

“You’re such a combat freak.”

“Hey, hey.” He waved his hand off. “You know how I am but… Well, that’s how I’ve been learning. It’s a greater world out there and I’m just a single person. But this.” He paused, reaching around to this twin-nodachis and setting them on his lap. “These are forever.”

“Your swords?”

“Well, kinda but not just that.” Rokurou gently placed his hands on the hilts. Stroking his finger against the etch work, he looked like a young father cradling a newborn. Despite the harsh and sometimes childish demeanor, it was one of the few times Velvet saw him without a trace of his daemonic nature.

“The _Rangetsu_ -style has been something passed down from generation to generation. That comes with my family being assassin servants for the Capalus’s.” he paused, setting the blades to his side. “Unlike Shigure, I’m willing to give people a shot at learning the _Rangetsu_ -style.”

“You would do that?” Velvet’s eyes widened.

“Yup. I would.” He sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Going from swordsmen to swordsmen, travelling the seas, I learned a lot but there’s always one thing between us. These things are weapons and learning to use them is nothing but killing. And Eleanor… Well, let’s say she’s got another idea about what using these things are.

“It’s all play-talk. A sword can be used for self-defense, a ‘tool of justice’ but it’s meant to kill. People that won’t kill will always be at the mercy of those that can.”

“So you decided to take that so she won’t burden herself with killing? Wasn’t that what happened before?”

“Yeah but… You know, being a Shepherd and all, she knows what daemons are. What dragons are. And with all this infighting between the Midgand Empire’s nobles, what people are. One day she’ll have to make that decision to kill. To fight. Just to live. Contradicting, ain’t it?”

Velvet’s eyes furrowed. Had so much changed in the last seven years?

“You’ve… grown. And I guess Eleanor’s done the same.”

“Yes and no.” He covered the daemonic half of his face with his hands, brushing back the hair. The same black and red markings covered. If resonance was slowly reducing in the world, nobody would’ve even saw it.

“Then why… aren’t you there. With her, I mean.”

Rokurou leaned forward, staring into the blank space between them. Fixed eyes trained on the floorboards before closing. “We got into an argument.”

“It couldn’t be that bad.” Velvet blinked. “Was it?”

The yaksha looked to the side, eyes and face blank as he pushed his blades to the side. “It was.”

Velvet scowled. She hated this dance around the issue. “Damn it, Rokurou… You two were happy last time I was here. How the hell did you fuck that up?”

He frowned, looking defensively at her. “Me? What makes you think it wasn’t her?”

“Because it wouldn’t be her. Miss perfect exorcist.”

“You’re putting people on a pedestal.” He fired back. “This isn’t exactly that dreamscape of yours.”

Her eyes narrowed. “When did you learn about that?”

“What? You think Laphicet wouldn’t tell us?” He stood back up, walking to the other side of the room. Frustrated, like hot peppers on the tip of his tongue, he finally threw his hands down and looked back at her. “I don’t recall you being so nosy about other people’s issues.”

“That… that’s changed.”

He tossed his hands in the air. “Well there you go.” Exasperated, he leaned against the wall. “We were all united against Artorious. And after all, we went our separate ways. We all had our different dreams. And like that, it meant that we’d fight one another. Especially in Eizen’s case.”

“The Van Aifread pirates. Do they still have a warrant for them?”

“Eleanor was turning a blind-eye to their activities, but somebody snitched the nobles.” He sighed. “And then they went after Eleanor.”

“Aren’t you an assassin? Just… silent them?”

“Yeah, and then what?” He snorted. “Make the traitor Exorcist look even more guilty. And she’d take responsibility for it. Those rumors spread fast.”

“She’s taking too much responsibility for taking that role in the first place.” Velvet growled. It was her decision to reform the Abbey and make it better. And yet…

And yet, she wasn’t one to talk otherwise. The Lord of Calamity was her title and her title alone.

“So you left her, in her time of need.” She looked at him in pity. “You’re the worst.”

Collapsing on the bed, he stared into the ceiling. “You’re not one to talk either, Velvet. Nobody knew what you were planning to do. Did it even do anything? And if it did, why are you here now? We all thought you’d be there for eternity.”

“That…” Silent fell between the two daemons.

“You got your revenge, didn’t you?” He looked up. For the first time she saw him, not as a battle-ready daemon, but as a young man. Maybe just as confused as she was.

“So, what happens now?”

Staring at one another, they slowly turned away. Each other’s words deeply unsatisfying to another’s answer.

“It’s getting late.” Rokurou opened the door for her. “I'll be leaving tomorrow early on that mission for the Bloodwings. You and Amelia more than welcome to come.”

“I’ll… think about it.”

Velvet turned to the door. Unlike the earthpulse at Titania, and the dragons that swarmed the Heavenly Steppes, these weren’t answers that could easily be swatted away by the blade. As much as she met those words to Zui Fuu, it still wouldn’t solve the problem at hand.

The action of doing so was in the right direction.

But now, she’s lost.

_They were still here when I was gone… How did this all happen?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [We’ll be here… When you’re gone.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4NsfUdVRmV8) The smallest push, the smallest person, the smallest echo can change the world.


	8. The Only Thing I Know for Real

_“Haha-ue!” A little boy ran to his mother, grabbing her by the flowing strips of her kimono. Taller men stood before them, talking in rough and coarse languages. Despite the near emotionless features on her face, she was getting irritated by the moment._

_A subtle hand flexed inward to the small sword daggers at her belt. Her opposite to the back scabbard._

_And when it seemed like blood would rain, the men walked away, pleased by their talks._

_She finally turns to the boy and bopped him on the head._

_“Rokurou-chan.” She sternly looked at him. “Do not bother me like that again. You shall wait your turn.”_

_The young boy sniffled. And the mother sighed, “Did you do your morning practices?”_

_“I-I finished…”_

_“Good, now go eat your breakfast. Your brothers are waiting for you.”_

_With tears in his eyes, the little boy ran off, leaving the elder Rangetsu to herself._

Rokurou found himself grasping at the ceiling. It wasn’t the night skies he found himself when travelling or the occasional tie up when a bandit or two decided hold him down.

Having a daemon eye open in the night made sure he wouldn’t be felled so easily.

Getting up and sitting at the edge of the bed, he rubbed his face. From the light crack of the window, the sun still hadn’t come out yet. But it was time to get ready. Ready for another battle. A sword day. A blood day.

Like clockwork, he washed his face and body, staring at the mirror. Years ago, he kept hair covering his right eye. Now, he pushed it off to the side, giving slightly better vision. The light scar on his cheek was a reminder of that mistake.

The swordsman finished his cleaning before stretching, flexing every muscle he needed for the next mission. He heard it was for a daemon that not even his brother could defeat.

Blood pumped in anxiety. He was getting ready for this.

Finishing up with the last of his routine, he donned the clothes he wore. A wandering swordsman just carried what he could. No backpack by the one he could fit onto his sash.

Gathering Stormhowl and Kurogane Swordquell, he made his way downstairs.

Peter waited downstairs, flipping a small pancake. To the bar’s counter, Velvet and Amelia were waiting, all ready.

“You managed to drag her into this too?”

“She’s my escort to Eleanor. Wouldn’t know where to find her.”

The brunette shrugged as she pinned her hair up. “And I’m curious where this mission is going too. So, you’ll just have to deal with us.”

“Do we have to bring you along?” He groaned.

“Fuck off and you.”

“If you’re willing.”

Velvet rubbed her temples. They were going to go at it this early?

Thankfully for the daemon’s sanity, Peter broke their petty squabble by clearing his throat. “In either case Rokurou, we found the target.”

“Oh? So where is this daemon?”

“In the old Rangetsu manor besides the Capalus estate.”

The young ronin took a moment to reflect what he said. Thumbing his words, his hair drooped over his eyes. The Capalus estate, where the Rangetsu family was interned to their lords. A lot of people would want to loot an abandoned house, even if it was from a disgraced lord.

“What happened to the Asgard garrison that was supposed to be guarding the manor?”

“They’ve suffered massive casualties trying to fend off the daemon. A few wanted the crown to take action and Percival said he would.”

“So this job came from him as well.”

“Naturally.”

Scratching the back of his neck, Rokurou stared up at the ceiling then back down. “Alright. We’ll go now.” He turned to Velvet and Amelia. “It’s about an hour to get there.”

Peter walked over to the door, opening it to the fresh air outside. Just outside, a carriage and driver waited for them.

“Our men shall escort you there. Take caution, all of you.”

As they walked outside and took their seats, the light rumble of wooden wheels against the cobblestone and brick streets, Rokurou looked through the windows.

“Never thought I’d be coming back home.”

“Really? You never went back?” Velvet asked.

“Never had a reason to go.”

“The Rangetsu family has always been the dagger in the dark for the Asgard Dynasty. The loyalty of the Capalus’s hinged on it.” Amelia leaned in. “I overheard from the other Bloodwing’s that you and Eleanor took down Lancelot, turned into a daemon. He called himself a ‘Lord of Calamity’.”

Velvet ground her teeth at the mention of it.

“Was he though?” Amelia frowned.

“Uhhh...” He scratched his head, looking back at his former ‘charge’. “Velvet, remember the times when you were fuming out malevolence?”

“Yeah, I remember. It was after the first fight with Innominat.”

“Well… Lord Capalus had something like that. But it was more warped. Like all that malevolence he was spreading was distorting the world around him.”

She crossed her arms. “He wasn't the only ones calling themselves 'Lord of Calamity' wasn’t he?”

“A lot of daemons. And I’m sure a few corrupted malakhim too.”

Silence hung for a moment before Rokurou leaned back, looking at the legate. “Amelia, how was Eleanor the last time you saw her?”

“Huh?” Caught off-guard, the woman tilted her head. “Focused, I guess. Maybe a bit tired? She just wanted to get this whole ‘gather four elemental empyrean blessings’ thing over with.”

Flexing his fingers for a moment, he looked back outside. They just passed out of the city and into the fields.

“So, tell me something.” Velvet spoke up. “You never really liked talking about your family. And now, seven years later, you didn’t even visit your old house?”

The yaksha shifted in his seat, legs crossing over one another. “Haven’t crossed my mind until now.”

“Did you even live there long enough?” the other woman raised an eyebrow. “From what I’ve read up, the Rangetsu family hardly stays in the household. Only the Shigure does. And from what we know, the only 'Shigure' now is you.”

“I’m… not the Shigure.” He shook his head. “Seven years later and the world’s gotten a lot bigger. It’s not gonna be my title for a long time.”

“What?” Velvet teased, “Artorius wasn’t good enough for you?”

“Come on, we only managed to take him down as a group.”

“A collection of wrong-doers. Doing right.”

Proud of their accomplishments, the other black-haired woman sighed, drumming her fingers against the carriage frame. If they were going to face something to even force former legate Shigure back, they would need all the strength they need.

* * *

**-.-.-**

* * *

 

Stained white and blue walls boarded the Rangetsu household. Unlike the towering Capalus mansion in the front, the complex was made horizontally. Foreign curved roofs lined every top, but several of them collapsed from the vacancy over seven years.

Smaller grass roots have slowly overtaken the stone steps into the house.

And Rokurou scuffed his shoe into the dirt. With swords still sheathed, he entered through the front, the door’s sliding mechanisms scuffing and snapping along the way.

The malevolence in the area wasn’t too high. In fact, it seemed almost too low. He’d never suspect a daemon, much less one that Shigure fought, was here. Lailah covered her mouth as she entered, but quickly clasped her hands in her lap.

“Ooooh rustic!”

The yaksha’s fingers traced the walls, looking back at the old memories. Six brothers. One mother. A bunch of servants and Rangetsu-branch family guards. This place would’ve been teeming with life. Or at the very least, ringing with the sounds of blades.

Now they were all dead. Scattered across the lands by the various nobles, mercenaries or just dumb luck.

“Rokurou?”

He turned, seeing Velvet, Amelia, and Lailah looking at him with various levels of concern.

“Sorry. Just a bit nostalgic.”

Walking further, the wooden boards creaked. Reflexively, he leaned forward and the sounds quieted. Velvet and Amelia didn’t bother.

Down the hallways, Rokurou looked at the rooms. Various blankets and pillows were tossed around. Even the looters didn’t bother with things here.

“Haa… I remember my mother used to herd all up. Sometimes hitting us with a bamboo stick.” He sighed. Fingers nervously drumming against the walls. 

It was a beat he and the Rangetsu Clan practiced to. The sounds of strikes and shouts, punctuated by exhaustion and whimpering. 

“This is a little sensitive but,” Velvet rubbed her chin, snapping the young man back. “You always talk about your mother. Did you know your father?”

“No. Not a single thing. And I’m sure Shigure knew just as much about him too.”

“Did he try to claim the ‘Shigure’ title?”

“I guessed. Shigure thought the same too but… It’s something we’ll never know.”

The group grew silent until Lailah asked, “So where are we heading? Do you know where this daemon is?”

“If I were a daemon lurking here, I think there’s one place I’d be.” He smiled. “Our old little pray spot.”

Confused at first, the women followed right behind him to the largest sliding doors of house. The young samurai reached out and pulled back. For a moment, he stood there staring at the door.

Rokurou slid the doors out for the rest to see.

A large open area carved into the ground with sand. It looked like a small stadium for fighting, with wooden raised areas for an audience to watch. In the back several stone steles, inscribed in another language.

But in the center of the room was a beast. Kneeling before the statues, with blades surround itself. Two hand-and-a-half swords with double-handed blade before the alter.

Noticing the guests, the beast turned, head still bowed. Darken eyes gazed from malak to human and daemon. Rokurou brushed his hair back, daemonic eye glowing like a smoldering coal.

“ _You dare stand in sacred grounds… Unless you come for a duel?_ ”

“A woman’s voice?” Velvet and Amelia muttered to themselves. Lailah stared at the daemonic wyvern before Rokurou stepped forward.

“More than a duel.” He swiped out both blades. “All of us. Against you.”

The daemon darkly chuckled, standing back up. Taking its weapons and beating its chest, it roared. “The more, the merrier!”

Grouping up, Velvet, Rokurou and Amelia dove in, blades the ready. It took a moment as the winds split the wooden walls. Wielding the larger of the weapons, the beast hacked at them, arching a swipe that gorged the sand.

Fire ignited behind the three, great flames rose like vipers and burned the daemon’s armor. But it would not deter.

Sparks glowed as edges caught one another. Velvet hacked at the armor, slipping between the plating. But the daemon’s skin was just as hard. The wyvern grappled her shoulder, flinging her away into the benches.

Amelia smashed in, swapping her twin-blades for a warhammer. Hurling her weapon at the monster, she roared, “Hammer toss!”

The beast curled back, the banging blows returning as she spun and turned into the next hit. “Pow hamme-!--?!”

Time seemed to freeze. Blades glowing a deep azure color. A red crescent moon came into view as Amelia screamed, flung through walls. “ _Chigetsuryuu… Hayabusa!_ ”

Lailah immediately retreated while Velvet and Rokurou forced the being back. Like flames to the shadow, continually batting against the dark. Even flames have their limits, their wicks burning to the ends.

Soreness poured like lava into the yaksha’s body. Every thrust, parry, and slash reflected off as much as the beast did to theirs. They were steadily losing. _He_ was steadily losing. Twisting his wrist as the next hit stuck into the ground beside him, Rokurou hacked again. A glimmer of a smile broke between him and his prey. Faster and faster yet, their ballet sparks and swords accelerated into a full storm. The air violently reverberating with every hit and miss. 

Centuries of Rangetsu combat against another swordsman, refined through age. 

Sparks glowed in his eyes as he pulled back. His legs, jelly. The daemon stood tall, bellowing.

“ _Tremble…! Die knowing your edge is dull to the Shigure!_ ”

He stood once more. The single glowing eye turned to two. Yet there was trembling in his arms and legs. Fingers squeezing harder on the hilts of his swords. Time slowed as he curled in, ducking beneath the first swipe. Twisting his entire body into the slash, it cut deep.

Yet another flash of red came to view. Rokurou stared at the blade as the beast backed off. Velvet’s leg slashed and pushed the monster back before the beast shoved passed her.

“Finish it!” She roared.

Blade caught blade. Ronin versus ronin. Daemon against daemon.

“ _Rangetsuryuu…  
_ “ _Kokuujin Oogi…_

“ ** _Akumetsu_** _!_ ”

Paint brush strokes batted one another. Sparks hailed like raindrops as the very sand and dirt kicked with every blow. In the back, Amelia and Lailah clung onto the seats.

“ _Zero no Kata… Hakuu!_ ”

A final flash and the two stood still and opposite sides. Rokurou breathed, turning to the daemon as it sighed.

“Shigure..?”

“That name died seven years ago.” He said, unusually distant. “Scatter like the cherry blossoms.”

From blood-soaked teeth, the beast smiled, turning to the young man.

“ _Omigoto… Rokurou… kun_.”

The daemon collapsed, body sprawled out. Already the malevolence of the body fumed like a fire before disappearing entirely. As if it never existed.

Rokurou fell to a knee, gasping as if he nearly drowned. Velvet immediately caught up back up. “… What was that all about?”

“I think… I know…” He coughed, “The Bloodwings have a lot to explain about.”

Amelia used Lailah as her crutch and Rokurou did the same with Velvet. Hobbling out of the destroyed shrine, the ronin yaksha looked at the statues in the back and turned away.

Just outside the manor, Bloodwing members were already waiting. Peter among them and behind him, in a wheelchair, was Tabatha Baskerville.

“Well done.” She laughed amid a cough. “I assume that the daemon has been taken care of?”

“A few things first Tabatha.” Rokurou immediately getting to the point. “You knew that was Mitsuko Rangetsu, my mother, didn’t you?”

“That was your mom?” Amelia stared.

“I had an idea.” Velvet held one hand at her hip. “Was this revenge?”

Tabatha chuckled. “Oh no, a plan snagged by the Rangetsu family, that failing was all on us.” She smiled.  “Mitsuko Rangetsu. She was a fiery one. Fighting us and a rival house with a newborn in one arm.”

“I see why Shigu… Ichirou didn’t kill her.” He sighed, “Nobody should have to kill their parent’s twice.”

“But now, it’s time to clean up.” Peter nodded and set the others to work. “What shall we do with the house here, Rokurou? If you wish, we can burn it down if you like.”

“No, keep it.” He turned back to the house and rubbed his chin. “It may be a broken house, but it’d be wasteful going down in flames.”

Tabatha closed her eyes. “Very well. And thank you, my boy. Your services are well appreciated.”

As the elderly woman was carted away, Velvet turned back to the young ronin. “So… you were afraid, weren’t you?”

“Huh?” Amelia turned to Rokurou then back to Lailah. The fire-branded malak smiled, “It’s a family feud turned to familiarity, wasn’t it?”

The legate cursed under her breath, passing a few gald over to her bonded friend.

Rokurou’s face turned from puzzled, to passive then finally relaxed. The usual carefree smile returned to his face. Tired, but alive. “Saw through me that easily huh? Eleanor thought the same, a bit too easy to read. If you knew me.”

“That can’t be all, isn’t it?”

“Velvet…” He turned to her and slumped his shoulders. “I’d disappear for months on end, finding and fighting new people. Every time, I’d come back with scratches, bruises, and cuts. Some worse than others. Even broken my arm and leg over it! And every time, she’d help me back up. The same face and the same worry.

“Sometimes she doesn’t even hear back reports about me.”

“But she stayed with you. Isn’t that enough?”

“I… I didn’t think so. I _don’t_ think so.” He scratched his head. “Rangetsu blood is known for killing. I’m a warrior. And she’s… she’s a protector. A symbol of hope. What… exactly can I do?”

“Stay with her.”

“Velvet, it’s never that simple.” Rokurou leaned himself back. “She’s the one that made the first move on me.”

Velvet’s eyes widened. “What exactly did she do?”

“Lay on the bed, striped to barely anything. I saw it in her eyes. She dared me to do something and I… backed out.”

“This is the first time I think I’ve ever seen you run away from something.”

“Rangetsu men aren’t exactly the best with dealing with emotions.” He paused. “I’m not proud of the things I did that hurt her, directly or indirectly. Maybe I’m just trying to figure out what I’m feeling.”

“You had no problem asking Phi.”

“That’s lust; it’s completely different.” Rokurou took a seat, closing his eyes. “Hard to believe. All this time, watching mom scolded us. Pushing us to the edge. It was the only thing we ever knew. Was it love? Making sure that we’d have the skills to survive in the world? Or just to survive in the shitty assassin life we’re in?”

He shrugged.

“That was the first time I think she's ever praised me. Or any of my brother's....

Guess I’ll never know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The only thing I know for real...](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1FAFZYOqrzU) is the path I had, have, and will walk.


	9. Under Pressure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you need a good voice reference for the characters here it is:
> 
> Amelia Le’Blanc = Karen Strassman / Yoko Hikasa
> 
> Alexandra Breuse = Amanda Lee / Aoi Yuuki
> 
> Malakhim Aoife = Misty Lee / Aya Endo

_Glimmering, rainbow colors swirled in endless rings. The air itself felt holy, as if elevated by the low hum coming from the door. Among the steps to the door, a winged pig flaps its wings. It knows that it could not open the door._

_Far too big, and far too iron-clad._

_Yet, the pig has lingered on these steps for centuries. Hoping against hope that salvation would come and its doors open once more._

_The thundering steps of an armored figure marches up the stairs. Glittering orange orbs hide between plating. Blood red cape trailing from its neck. As it hikes up the stairs, the pig looks over, defeated._

_It was an Azure Knight._

“Who dares trend on these..?” _The pig stopped. It knows who this was. Scorn snarled its face._

“I’ve come to see for my own eyes.” _The figure answered, brushing past it. The Azure Knight knocked on the door, leaning forward. Eyes scanned door. Was it looking for cracks? Or whether or not something_ had _come through?_

 _Satisfied, the knight turns and descends the stairs._ “Why bother staying on these steps?”

“It is our final wish to return to the Heaven’s from which we came. Something you know.”

“Why bother Zui Fu?” _Flushing its cap, it marches down._

“Wait!” _They stop._ “What did your eyes see?”

“That which I already knew.”

* * *

**-.-.-**

* * *

 

Eleanor looked to the open docks as she walked down walkway plank. It was a smaller port towards the western part of the charted lands. Any further would’ve been perilous for ships. These people had lived here, slightly outside the reach of the former Abbey and the Asgard Empire.

Sometimes she wondered if they too had a problem with daemons.

A lot of good can come from seeing malakhim and daemons for what they truly are. But sometimes, it’s a burden. As the resonance of the world was ebbed, the weakest resonating people lost sight of these beings. Now, they saw forces of nature, feral men and women, robbers and thieves.

But the terrors remained. Maotelus’s healing light only helped those that wanted to be saved. Or had some semblance of humanity remaining.

_If only, if only…_

“Shepherd.”

Eleanor turned to the side. Aoife leaning her hand on her hip. “You’re getting lost in thought again.”

“Sorry, sorry. Just thinking.”

“There’s been a lot on your mind, Eleanor.” Alex walked down, holding her blade by a scabbard sling. The blonde gazed around, shielding her eyes. “Small port.”

“Nothing like Zekson.” Her voice echoed as they walked around. Truly, it seemed like a fishing port village. With friendly faces, the people haggled with gald and other goods. Alex held her nose.

“Fish smells worse here.”

“I’ve smelled worse.” The fire-brand shrugged.

In the distance, they could see it. A looming obsidian pillar of rock and magma and smoke. That was their destination. Mount Cuilthionn, the Earthpulse Point for the Empyrean of Fire.

 _Lady Teresa…_ Maotelus told her that Teresa Linares reincarnated into that elemental Empyrean.

A pit fell down her stomach as she continued to stare as Alex helped push her out of the way from passing carts and people. Would the Empyrean remember her memories of her life as a human like Eumacia?

Or would those feelings be reflected like that fire malak, Seres?

And about Seres, _Velvet._ With her back, was she going to follow them here? What would she say to her? That for all her best efforts, being a small-time person to the new leader of the Abbey… It still wasn’t enough?

Pain snapped at her head. Eleanor covered her head, turning to see Aoife frowning, hand parallel to her head.

“Focus, Shepherd. We’re in an unknown land. Just like our journey to Eumacia’s temple, we are unsure about these lands too.” Pulling her hand back, she added, “But we should ask for advise here.”

“R-right. Alex, I’m sorry, but do you think you could do the supplies? We’ll meet at… That inn over there.”

The blonde nodded, smiling as she headed to the market. “See you two later.”

Eleanor took a moment to catch her breath. There she goes, thinking about her, no their leader on the adventure years ago. And now, here she was, the Shepherd.

 _Am I becoming like Artorius?_ She turned back. Alex was lost in the crowd. She was her ‘Melchior’. Even trained under his special unit from the original Abbey, despite her own gripes against their methods.

_Gods, if Velvet saw me now…_

“Focus, mot.” Aoife scowled again. “You wanted to check in with the inn before we go around asking.”

Heading to the inn, Eleanor looked around. It seemed like a good amount of the people here could still see Aoife. Good. She wasn’t going to look like a fool if she was talking to air.

“Welcome to the Loganberry Inn. Would you like a room?” The receptionist smiled.

“Yes, two beds for a night.”

“Excellent, that’ll be 400 gald please.”

She handed the pieces over, writing her name down. “The room will be ready shortly. Until then, please enjoy the small things about the town.”

“Actually, I was wondering.” The redhead cleared her throat. “The mountain in the distance. It’s called Cuilthionn, correct? Is there any way to get to it?”

Silence drew around. A few eyes looked over, curious as to what their business was here. The woman behind the desk coughed and everybody went back to their activities.

“Mount Cuilthionn is sacred grounds.” She finally said, “What business do you have with the mountain?”

“M-my name is Eleanor Hume, the Shepherd of the Midgand Abbey. I wish to appeal to the Empyrean of Fire, Musiphe.”

The girl drummed her fingers against the counter. Finally, she pulled a small wooden block that read ‘Be back soon’ before offering the two to a small room behind the counter.

Quietly mushed in, Eleanor looked around. It was just a small break room with cubbies for personal items.

“I’d be careful of what you say Ms. Shepherd.” The woman explained, crossing her arms. “The Abbey returning to our shores isn’t exactly what we were looking for.”

Eleanor furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

“Years back, the Abbey came here wishing to extend the power of the Empire’s reach. We enjoy our autonomy here and declined their aid. When they returned, they brought cannons. We fought back. It got bad enough that the Abbey eventually withdrew from these shores.

“Many of the people here still remember the fighting. Even more still bare its scars. Many of them have not forgotten or will be willing to forget.”

She gulped. The old sins of the Abbey are coming back. If it wasn’t the nobles that came with Artorius, then it was these people too? “A-and you? What about you?”

“I lost nothing during those incidents. But I remember the same pain and anguish on our people’s faces when the Abbey retreated. You, on the other hand,” Her eyes narrowed for a moment, inspecting her person. Eleanor felt near naked.

“You do not seem like those Abbey or Imperial soldiers.”

The redhead breathed out.

“But I don’t trust you. At least, not yet.” She sighed. “Did you come alone?”

Aoife walked in front of them, waving her arm. “Nope, she can’t see me.”

“N-no, I came with another person.”

“Then I hope she didn’t draw trouble to herself.”

* * *

**-.-.-**

* * *

 

Alex looked at some of the fish, fresh from the many fishing boats that roamed the seas. Fresh salmon, cod, and even some herring! The young Legate smiled, flinging gald left and right as she stocked up on supplies. A few would be smoked as they made their way to the mountain.

Or if Eleanor managed to secure safe passageway, a snack for later.

Still, the tense air about her felt like a wet blanket. The very minute they stepped off the ship, she could feel malevolence abound. And from just guessing, it was pointed at her.

Thin layers of purples haze mucked about. She coughed.

It was just the same when she was under Melchior’s _quaestor_ Exorcists. They weren’t the strongest, or the brightest. Unallowed malakhim or normin, it was their job to accomplish the tasks that Melchior could not accomplish by himself.

Even if the actions were heavily securitized by the Shepherd.

It was their job. To work in the shadows.

Were it so easy to be a saint in paradise.

She was a knight of the Empire before. She’s a Legate of the new Abbey now.

Not watching where she was going, Alex bumped into one sailor there. “Watch it!” The man growled as the blonde scurried away. “P-pardon me!”

Nods passed by. But the blonde felt something off. A few of the sailors aggressively approached her. Her hand was already on her blade.

“C-can I help you guys?”

“You one of them Exorcists of the Abbey?”

She gulped. “Y-yes?”

“Blasted imperial rats coming again huh?”

Alex’s eyes widened, with tooth and claw and blade, these men were transforming into daemons. Instinct took as she held her ground. A crowd was drawing near. Some cheered the local fishermen. Other’s just wanted to break up the fight.

Malevolence kept spreading, slowly morphing men to beasts

“I’m not here looking for a fight.” She drew her blade. She wondered what the other town folk were doing. None of them seemed to panic that their fellow townsfolk transformed.

Sweat dripped down her back. If she killed them, it’d be like she killed another person. _Blast it!_

She pushed back, hopping backwards from the crowd and back to solid land. Eyes darted around. Escape routes to flee. No matter what, she couldn’t fight these people so openly.

A shriek pierced her thoughts. She turned.

One of the humans-turned-daemon harassed the villagers. Alex bit her lip.

The beast-man swung his arm at the woman, blocked by Alex’s blade.

“Ain’t nice to hit a lady.”

Blowing back, the daemons gathered around her. There was no way to get out of this now.

Axes, spears, and even a boat oar flew in her face. The blonde twisted and turned. None of them hit.

First two. Then three. Finally, four. Still nothing could hit her.

Alex was getting tired. She couldn’t continue dodging their attacks forever.

She tightened the grip on her blade.

“Ghost Wolf!”

She hacked away, slowing her slice just enough to smack the offender with the blade’s bare side. The others immediately swarmed. Her free hand slapped wrists and forearms. A shimmering edge glowing around her head.

The blonde twirled the blade around her body, centering again. To the people before them, what looked like a drunken brawl steadily evolved. As the artist works a masterpiece, the shapes and forms yet to reveal themselves.

“Move or be moved!” She howled.

Flashes and sparks sprang about. The very air pulled towards hers, drawing them into a cyclone of metal and blood.

“Azure Wolf! Shining Fang! Dragon Swarm! Wolf Strike!”

The men levitated in the air. She hopped into the air, spinning her blade before crashing down into the cobblestone.

“Tiger Azure Blast!”

Earth violently erupted. Stones flew like smaller cannons shots. A neatly done hole laid where Alex’s fist connected. She looked around, seeing the men she fought. All incapacitated.

Gone were the gentle blue eyes that wished to avoid the fight all together. Icy bellicose orbs darted, making sure that all were done. From the corner of her lips, a small smile struggled to bloom.

The Legate swiped her blade clean of the small blood on its edge. It barely cut, just enough to spark pain in her foes. Harsh features evaporated, immediately sheathing her weapon and tending to the knocked-out opponents.

People ran in opposite directions, gathering whatever security force they could manage in the village. Alice continued tending to wounds. All these men had transformed into daemons. She only hoped that Aoife’s purification abilities would work.

And just in time. Eleanor and Aoife ran over. “What happened?” The Shepherd rushed. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m peachy.” She fixed up some wounds. Nodding at her handiwork, Alex looked back at Aoife.

“Can you purify them?”

The Flame malak held her hand out, small paper talisman in hand. Whispered words transformed to power as she tossed them at the men. Silvery flames consumed their bodies, charring away at the malevolence as they burnt into grey mist.

Those that attacked her were as they were before, just men.

A small bead of sweat trailed down her neck as she saw the small militia of town guards come by. Eleanor closed to shield her from them before Alex pulled her shoulder. This wasn’t the business of the Shepherd.

And as her Legate, the duties as an Enforcer was hers to bear.

“Alright lady, for disturbing the peace, you’re gonna be sitting in our little jail.” The guardsman ordered. “Unless your pretty lady friend is willing to pay for bail?”

“H-hey, it wasn’t Alexandra that started th-!”

Again, Alex hushed her. Lazily holding her arms out, the guards shackled her hands. Shoved immediately, they escorted her away. Aoife’s eyes narrowed but Eleanor continued to stare in disbelief, tears forming in her eyes again.

“I’ll be back.” The blonde shrugged, feeling the guard snag her blade.

* * *

**-.-.-**

* * *

 

Alex groaned, tossed into the cell. They hadn’t walked very far from the docks, maybe a few minutes later. She could still hear the ocean. Small seagulls crowing in the distance. Falling back into a small pile of hay, the blonde wobbled her hand. Still tied up.

And good thing too. She _almost_ felt like throttling them.

Dark thoughts were just that, she hoped. Dark thoughts. But day by day, they grew intense. Before, she was the daughter of a knight, grown from a family of them. It was expected that she would become one too. The cycle of a knight that passed down from all family members.

Destiny and the Abbey said otherwise.

Father bore daggers. Mother cried. Her little sister sniffled.

_It was for the better, wasn’t it?_

He taught her how to fight. It was expected of her. He expected more from her. That she’d be the next in line, the echo of her father. He displayed no niceties with his words as they play-fought.

_A sword is a weapon, and swordsmanship is the art of killing. Anybody that says so otherwise never spilt blood before._

But Alex’s sense of justice always seemed forward. Constantly they argued. Whether or not he or she was right was out of the questions. They knew each other’s points, just as they discovered the pointed edge of the sword. Fights and arguments took to blades and she found herself on the losing edge.

They had their strengths and weaknesses as known from a father to his daughter.

And even she was drawn into Melchior’s subjugation missions, her sense of justice was tested again. They were doing things for the Abbey right? Consolidating the power of the empire. And yet, she led several missions for forcing the blame on dissenters, making the Abbey appear as the beacon for humanity.

It felt like she was drowning. She’s worked under pressure before, so why did it feel bad now? Was it the constant reports as the Wings moved in and no lead? That whomever they captured committed suicide by geas before they could talk?

And for all those failings, was she worthy of being called a ‘Legate’? The word came from come older civilization, borrowed and reborn into modern times.

If she couldn’t succeed as a Legate, then she’s failed as a knight of the empire.

Fingers thumbed a stray piece of hay as the prison guard opened a small hatch with basic food. Water, and some bread.

Alex snagged her food, retreating into the hay corner. Clawing at it from the restrains around her wrists.

Maybe a slightly filled belly would get her mind back straight.

* * *

**-.-.-**

* * *

 

Funny enough, the guardsman handed Eleanor Alex’s sword. Polishing the blade, the Shepherd tried to distract her mind from what happened. A few of the people there admitted that the sailors started the brawl. But that only aggravated the others. Yelling matches were common.

The inn receptionist said it was just something that happened. That they’d fight over petty things and eventually it’ll get resolved.

Eleanor stopped her work, seeing Aoife reading a small book. A complimentary book that came with the inn.

“Getting distracted, are we?” The Firebrand looked up, smirking.

Eleanor put the blade to the side and sighed. “Kind of. I’m glad that you managed to purify those men.”

“Please, it was nothing.” Setting the book to the side, she turned to her. “But, how long do you think the Knight will be in jail?”

“Hopefully not that long.” Eleanor shifted in her arm. “She’s been hiding a lot of emotion, hasn’t she?”

“Indeed. Many malakhim would stay away from her, if possible. Much conflict in that one.” Aoife leaned forward. “But that’s what we expected from a member of Melchior’s exorcist corps.”

“I guess. She was the first to volunteer when the idea was on the table.”

The room fell silent again as Eleanor’s thoughts trailed again. Her mind replaying the same situation with meeting the therion again. _Velvet…_ She would come and slap her across the face. Everything was repeating again.

“Your thoughts betray you, Shepherd.” The Firebrand spoke. “Is it about the Therion again?”

She looked to the side, a small red blush on her cheeks. “Yes.”

“Is there something I should know?” The malak set her book aside. “Would she hurt you?”

“I…” Eyes looked around the room. “If she saw me as I am, yes.”

“And what would you do?”

“… Nothing.” She closed her eyes. “The Abbey’s collapse, Maotelus’s power fading, the Wings… It’s my fault.”

“It really isn’t it.”

“But that’s what it means to be the leader. All things, both good and bad, you must take responsibility of the actions surrounding you. Alex’s targeted eliminations, Amelia’s flirtaous behavior. Dealing with village attacks because the exorcist corps can’t be everywhere… And now, here.

“No matter where we go, we are making up for the old Abbey’s transgressions. Maybe… Maybe rebuilding the Abbey was a mistake.”

Aoife walked over, taking a seat on the bed with Eleanor. “Shepherd, you’re losing yourself in this cycle again. If it wasn’t for you, then those vengeful malak would’ve terrorized the villages.”

“I know, I know. Some listened because I helped seal Innominat away.” She sighed. “But there were other’s that didn’t listen.”

“Malakhim are just as prideful as humans are. There’s very little difference between us in that. The issue comes from the fact that not all humans can perceive malakhim. Changing one’s perspective doesn’t occur overnight.”

“Or a few years.”

Aoife solemnly nodded. “Should the Therion come to harm you, then I shall be your shield. And if not, I’m certain that you’ll be able to defend yourself.”

A small smile bloomed on her face. “I don’t think we’ll actually _fight_ but, thank you Aoife. I needed that.”

“Very good Shepherd. I’ll be heading off to bed now.”

She disappeared in a flash of light. Eleanor feeling her power residing inside her. Taking to the bed, her thoughts continued to dwell on her charge. Her friend during those things.

“Velvet… please don’t hate me…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is under these hard times, [Under Pressure](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o8DW-QolX5s), true character is shown.
> 
> If you wanna check me out, I have a tumblr [here!](https://universalworkplace.tumblr.com/)
> 
> The next update will take longer as I am taking a vacation elsewhere

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are good, but comments are great! Please leave a comment on the story as it grows!


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